American Guns and An English Rose
by Tea-and-scone-alliance
Summary: It is 1923. Arthur a local bar-owner has met a mysterious man by the name of Alfred. Unaware that Alfred part of the new and arising Mafia Family 'Vargas'. Arthur holds a bloody and tragic past while Alfred's is just as heart breaking. Somehow they befriend each other and this turns into a fast paced passionate love. How will love triumph in a time of fear and heartache? USUK KINKY
1. A bottle of Bourbon

American Guns and an English Rose

Tea and Scone Alliance

02/02/2014

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Summary: The year is 1923; Arthur Kirkland was a local bartender at a pub which his family had owned since they had moved to America a few years earlier. One night when business was slow a mysterious mafia man enters the bar by the name of Alfred F. Jones. Jones's has a dark and confronting secret that he doesn't want his new-found friend to find out. Meanwhile Arthur's history is just as dark and bloody. Rated M for smuttiness in later chapters. Human names USUK/UKUS. Oh and FYI It's a mix of US POV and UK POV. But mostly first-person Iggy! So Enjoy! :3

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Chapter 1 UK's POV: **A bottle of bourbon.**

It was another night working at the family owned pub 'The English Rose'. Though the pub was located in the heart of New York City it had an extremely English vibe to it.

It was a foggy night as strange as it was, it somehow felt pleasant. As the street lights dimmed down in visibility and the pub was partially shrouded fog, the fog wasn't too thick thankfully so if you were to stand on the other side of the street across from the pub you could still vaguely see it. The pub was brightly lit among the street lights, not as bright as other shops and restaurants nearby but it was still visible even through the fog.

The pub was an old brick building that had a few chipped off brick blocks and a few bricks that appeared to be missing. Despite how old the building looked and seemed it was fairly new with a large wooden sign that had the name of the pub with a symbol of a thornless rose that was sitting sideways on the roof of the building, the metal poles that were holding it in place were ridden with rust and at each time the wind picked up it gave a shrieking creek as it moved seemingly against its will. Inside felt rather homely to me, seeing as I've grown up in this pub, helping out wherever and whenever I could. With a slight sarcastic teenage attitude to the customers that my mother would always pick up on and pinch my cheeks in protest.

The pub had one entry and one exit besides the door in the back that was always locked and was often used for carting in supplies when I could afford to get them in stock seeing it was after the Great War business was much better and I've had more customers come in so I was able to stock up in supply over the hectic demand, English whisky was often the most favourite beverage I had offered. The main door to the pub was a large wooden door with a small glass panel fixated at the top of the door, I was thinking of placing steel bars over the panel after last week's incident involving a drunken patron getting fast first slammed into the window, luckily I had insurance but it still didn't make me feel any better. Aside from the new glass panel the door still desperately needed a touch of oil, but I had not found the time to fix the blasted door, I must admit my pub had been bruised and battered over the years. Upon the entry way there stood a bar directly opposite the door. It was a well-kept and pristine clean bar with a large collection of liquor and spirits in the cabinet behind the bar. The ranged from the strongest to the weakest of beverages I had to offer. I had it all from Vodka to Beer from Wine from wine spirits there was absolutely nothing I didn't have already, with the finest of wine aged to perfection and the highest quality of English Beer. I did also serve English food but cooking could never match my late mothers so I had decided to stick to the normal nuts and olives, for some strange reason these Americans liked to eat them and I complied for whatever made money was good business.

There was an upstairs and a down stairs in the bar. Upstairs was my bedroom, it was originally an office room but still remained as plain and subtle as always, with the same faded yellow coloured wall and same dark oak wooden floor that had been scratched from the furniture moving around there was also a small circular shaped carpet rug that had patterned flowers etched into the design I hated that rug but I felt it had covered all my scars both physically and mentally, the only differences that were noticeable was the new bed and the cabinet, but I still had kept my father's wooden desk that was now covered in piles and piles of paperwork and notes. I moved into the bar because I unable to afford the rent of my late parents' house. Downstairs was the cellar, but most of the time it was locked to make sure unwanted customers would not linger into what they shouldn't get involved in. The foyer was rather large. With a few bar tables here and there and a couple of chairs stacked upside down on the table seeing as it was nearly closing time. There was a large fireplace that hadn't been lit seeing it was summer. It had a large amount of trinkets and family portraits unable to see through the pubs dim light.

I had working here since I was able to work, well in my late father's case 12. My parents died only 6 years after we had moved to America in 1912, in a horrific car accident, I was only 18. Luckily enough the bar had actually become quite popular so I was able to make a living by living out my father's legacy, even though it pained me every day to hear people call me 'George Junior'. How it reopened an old wound in my weak and fragile heart I could literally feel all time and effort I had taken to build myself up again break down and leave me naked and empty over hearing those two words, all my resolve shattered with the unintentional innocent use of my parents' names. But what hurt me even more was how much resemblance of my father I had with the same messy blonde hair and bushy eyebrows that seemed to be a family trade mark representing the Kirkland's as annoying and embarrassing it was to be identified by a simple pair of eyebrows but I had looked so much like my father and every time I look in the mirror I feel he is staring back at me in disappointment at the useless and pathetic son he had raise. There was only one thing I was proud to have it was something that only my mother and I seemed to share out of all my four brothers, emerald-green eyes. While all of my brothers had taken my father's dark blue eyes I had my mothers and while my mothers were filled with happiness and warmth mine while mine are filled with angst and depression.

I was too much of a coward to end my life with a measly steal bullet to the head or a blunt knife to stab into my chest; no I was too proud to end my life in such an overly dramatic ordeal. So with no parents and all my brothers had moved out of home to start a life for themselves, escaping to all different areas of the country I was left to run the family pub. It wasn't that bad, I had no ambition to move out of home and settle down with a wife and children, and the thought of having a child gives me an unpleasant feeling all up and over my body.

As I had stood behind the bar wiping down the glossy bar-top for the hundredth time this hour, yes not this evening this hour. It was a Tuesday night so the bar wasn't as lively as weekends, it felt nice to know I wouldn't have to rush people's orders and deliver them the wrong drink by accident as the stress and tension got to me and made my brain literally snap under the pressure, no it was a slow and steady evening and that was the way I liked it.

I began to inspect the bar. It was 12 o'clock so not too many people had remained in the bar and most people had already left the pub, it was dead silent besides the mysterious sound of a deep and nasally snores. There was a man in the corner of foyer and he was half sitting on the chair the other half hanging off the side, I figured he had been the one snoring since he was the only person in the pub besides me. He had white hair and skin almost albino and red eyes when they were open, he recognised those eyes since they always seemed to be filled with a perverted happiness, he was a regular and had a tendency of screaming out 'I'M MORE AWESOME THAN ALL OF YOU IN THIS ROOM' whilst dancing on a table singing the German national anthem. Once he had 'accidentally' spilt another bar-goers drink, this caused him to have a black eye the next morning when he walked into my pub again, Somehow I wondered how no one cared that he was singing the national anthem of Germany after our troops had taken place in the Great War but as soon as a drink was spilled all hell broke loose and it was like the battle of Marne with no sign of a Christmas truce anytime soon. Sometimes I can't be bothered to care what happens to that man, he surprisingly pays for all of his drinks (which mainly consists of beer), but I figured that his brother had lent him the money seeing as he was unemployed according to his licence that was the first time he came to the pub. His head was face down into the table and he appeared to be asleep, sleeping in a puddle of drool mixed in with the beer he had spilt on the table before he slipped into unconsciousness.

As much of a pain it is to have an unconscious man at my pub it is a lot better than having a drunken man start a quarry or worse flirt with other costumers or even worse myself. That was a onetime thing and I never want to face something as terrifying as a grown man hitting on me ever again.

I've never really taken thought of what sex I find sexually attractive and arousing, I may even consider myself asexual at times, but it wasn't that I wasn't interested I just was too busy and caught up with my life and work to even care about my love life. I mean what does it matter, I'd rather be single and free rather than have a nagging women and screaming children. The only thing that really concerned me was that I was still a virgin. Yes a virgin at the age of 23, while unlike many overly hormonal teenage boys who were knocking up any women they deemed as 'fitting' I was reading my books and trying to make a living out of my miserable life.

But that all changed when a happy-go-lucky man walked into the bar without a care in the world, slamming the door on entry into the bar enough to grab my attention as I looked up to get a glimpse of the person. My first impression of the man wasn't a good one, I thought it was another drunken man who had probably gotten drunk at the pub down the street and been kicked out, seeing that he didn't want to end his night came over here to continue drinking. My body slightly jolted at the slam of the door and I nearly dropped the washcloth on the floor.

He was a very tall young man I reckoned around 20 or younger with a large bulky physique. He wore sleek black trousers that went to his ankles along with a matching pair of black leather shoes laces neatly tied, the shoes looked like the shoes your mother would buy you for Sunday school at your local church, of course my mother did no such thing seeing as my family was not overly religious like most American families. On his top half he wore a white buttoned up dress shirt that was rolled up to his elbows around his neckline he wore a black tie that was currently loosened and his top button undone so he could breathe, he had brown leather suspenders that were lying over his shoulder as he walked in he gave them a quick tug making a twang as the leather stretched and flicked back onto his chest. Upon his head he wore a black and white stripped fedora that seemed to cover most of his golden blonde hair; the thing that stood out the most was the cowlick that seemed to stick up ever so proudly out of the hat monochrome coloured hat. In his hand was a brown leather bomber jacket that he had wrapped up and placed it in his left hand gripping it tight. But the thing that caught my attention wasn't the hat, jacket or cowlick but it was his eyes. Those baby blue eyes that were covered behind a pair of glasses, those celeste coloured eyes that reminded him of bright sunny cloudless days, those eyes that put all others to shame.

The man strutted his way up to the bar and sat down in one of the bar stools that was directly in front of me. I sighed and put down the washcloth and straightened up my red bow tie before attending to the customer. I wasn't in a good mood especially tonight so I wasn't in the mood for idle chit chat. I placed two arms down on the bench and before I could even ask what he wanted he began to speak, cheery and bright as ever.

"Hello! Name's Alfred F. Jones here at your service, now it seems you'll be the one serving me but no matter!" Alfred spoke confident as ever as his blue eyes shinned bright into mine. I couldn't recognise his accent it sounded northern but it didn't sound anywhere near those of New York. I didn't know how to feel or even what to say, I had felt rather annoyed since I was hoping that no more customers would have come, but somehow fate had always had to turn against me.

"Good Evening, my name is Arthur Kirkland, how may I be of service, this evening." I said trying to pull a fake smile on for him. Inside I was smiling with contentment outside I was tired and just plainly too tired to get into a deep and long conversation. I hoped that the conversation would go along the lines of 'I'll just get a—'and he'll be on his merry way and so will I. But somehow that wasn't his intention at all.

"Nice to meet you Arthur, mind if I call you Artie?" Alfred began to shake the other male's hand ever so firm and abruptly, whilst shaking my hand he lifted my up so I was on the tip of my toes. As he let go I nearly wobbled off from the sheer strength he had in his hand to literally lift me off my feet.

Straightening myself out I cleared my throat and spoke with a fierce but tired tone "I do mind, you shall address me as Arthur nothing more and nothing less. Feel grateful that I am giving you the privilege of using my first name." How I hated any pet names, no matter how mesmerising and hypnotic his sky blue eyes were, no one has the right to give me a pet name. But what shocked me more was how this nickname I had only heard by one other person, my late mother. In shock I almost pulled my hand up to my heart, I felt I had to literally hold my chest in place otherwise my heart would break like fragile glass. Even though I hated it, I never told her top stop, somehow it was her way of showing her affections towards me and how oh so sweet it had felt. I straightened up again and directed my attention back to Alfred.

"Ok calm down limey, now Arthur, I would like a pint of your finest bourbon. However much that is" Alfred shot back and gave a smug but charming grin. I just rolled my eyes in discontentment, somehow this Alfred character hadn't been in my pub for even five minutes and he had me already seeing red. He was certainly the rudest, customer I had ever had the pleasure of meeting and I mean that sarcastically.

I wanted to spit venom at that response especially with the word limey, in a huff I turned around and bent down (accidentally sticking my arse out) and began to carefully search around for bourbon. It wasn't the most famous drink in my pub but I still sold it. I looked over my shoulder and I felt like I could see Alfred inspecting my arse with some kind of perverted pleasure, with that I sped up my pace and finally found the bottle. I got up placed the bottle on the bar-top and bent back down to get a clean glass cup. I shakily poured the bourbon into the glass trying my hardest to keep my eyes concentrated on the bottle and not the man who was sitting in front of me, with a little effort I succeeded and handed the glass over to Alfred.

"I believe that is $2.50." I lied rising the price by a dollar seeing how obnoxious and gullible the man seemed. He frowned in disappointment. I gathered it was his favourite drink and I had raised it to a seemingly unreasonable price. I know that would never be good for my business but I felt like rifling up the poor Yank.

I heard him hiss before he spoke"Jeez, A bit more expensive than usual, but you know what they say the more it costs the higher the quality!" I held in a scoff, the guy actually fell for it. I'd never thought that would happen. Then he placed Thomas Jefferson on the table who was green with greed and a half-hearted smile along with three-quarters that scattered separately around the $2 note in three separate places. I swiped up the money and placed it into a metal tin which I had placed behind the bar-top in the same cupboard the glasses were in. I got up to find that he was sitting there still staring at me. I felt a little unnerving as he was eyeing me I felt he was undressing me with his eyes taking off each clothing item, either slowly or quickly it didn't matter it still gave him a sick feeling in his stomach as he felt like vomiting.

"What?!" I said trying my hardest not to yell or scream but deliver a message that I was certainly not in a good mood. As I wiped another dirty glass with the washcloth, I placed it down rather threatening giving a large clang as it hit the wooden bar top. Alfred slightly jumped in surprise as I crossed my arms while death staring him down at him. I could see the fear fill his eyes before he started to give a slight giggle but held it back trying to pretend he hadn't, but it was too late I had already noticed, rather than me rifling him up I felt he was the one who was rifling me up, whether he realised he was a different story.

"S'nothin. I just wanted to buy you a drink." He said offering a kind smile. I lowered my arms and shifted them from my chest and placed them on either side of my hips. I gave a slight sigh and began to pour a cup of bourbon for myself. I tilted my head back and began to chug the glass down, Adam's apple bobbing up and down whilst I drank. Bourbon wasn't really my most favourite drink, but it wasn't that bad it was more of a favourite among yanks. As I finished drinking I wiped my mouth along my sleeve and spoke up.

"Don't have to buy me one. I can pour one myself, thank you very much." I looked to see that Alfred was laughing. I didn't think what I said was meant to be deadpanned but he laughed anyway. I stared at him confused and concerned by his idiocy.

"I like you, mister." Alfred managed to say through his laughing fit. So, this is how my relationship with Alfred would begin, over a bottle of Bourbon. "So do you work here? I only came here because one of my friends said this is one of the best bars in all of New York City. I came here to see if it was true."

I scoffed. I didn't know if it was he was joking or not. But I didn't want to brag about my pub. But I must admit it is one of the best in this god-for-saken city. So I simply replied " It's all right I suppose, I mean there are plenty of other pubs better than mine." I let a little lie slip through my teeth, I didn't feel good to lie about my bar but I figured it's better to at least seem somewhat modest.

Whislt I spoke I saw the American down his drink, I heard an aspirated noise as he finished his drink. "Are you kidding?! Dude this is the best bourbon I 've had in ages! I've never heard of the brand before. Is it new?" I was surprised by this, it was just my normal bourbon, I didn't think I had bought anything special, It may have tasted better seeing as it was hardly used and sitting there for years never needing to be refilled or replaced.

"No, I don't think it is." I said as I lifted up the bottle from the cabinet to show the name 'Jack Daniels'. It's been around for years and it's nothing the Americans haven't heard or tasted before. "But, I'm glad you liked it." I didn't know if I meant it or it was sarcasm taking over again.

The Yank looked at the bottle; I noticed that he had recognised the bottle. "Yeah I've had it before, it's actually one of my favourite brands, but hardly anyone sells it because of the price, you know?"

"Should I count myself thankful that I sold it?" I asked giving a slight smirk in the corners of my mouth, I didn't know how he would react but I took my chances hoping for the best.

"Well anyone should count themselves lucky to be in the presence of me! Alfred F. Jones the hero of the day!" He shouted so loud that it was able to stir the sleeping German in the back of the bar. I gave a slight chuckle at how obnoxious the man seemed in this case he didn't seem like a man at all more like a day dreaming child, he sounded like all those super heroes in the books the Americans wrote, often having outrageously inhuman powers that your average day person could only dream of.

"Well I don't think you've done anything heroic so far." I challenged the yank, but somehow I think I just made it worse. He want on rambling about some of the times were he rescued innocent cats from trees and helped an elderly lady cross the street. I wondered if she hit him with her purse afterwards. I hoped she aimed right even for her old age.

We later found ourselves talking about anything and everything. I learnt so much about him but I still remained a closed shell and only gave him a bit of information that seemed somewhat reasonable without giving too much away. It wasn't that I felt I couldn't trust him, I think it was more that he couldn't trust me let alone I couldn't trust myself.

It was past closing time; the drunk on the table had eventually woken up and left ages ago, whilst I was still talking to that American at roughly 2-3 in the morning I was supposed to have closed over two hours ago but I couldn't care less. He was only 19 and came from Virginia, some country town I'm pretty sure by the sound of his accent, he moved out her to get a job seeing as work was hard in Virginia so he signed up to be news reporter and wrote for the New York Times seeing he had a rather good education, he showed me a sneak peek preview on his article for tomorrow it was about American Baseball, I'd never seen anyone get so passionate as he did over sport, I can't judge I must admit whenever a football game was played I jumped for joy and would cheer and jeer at the top of my lungs each time a goal was sent flying through the back of the nets, Alfred mostly focused on sport since he saw it as is inspiration for he was quarterback on his American football team, it surprised to see him in something that involved literacy seeing he abused the English language terribly with only speech. We had an argument that seemed to last ages over soccer and football, eventually I gave up and remained passive not passive aggressive over the small argument.

He mentioned that he had a brother who lived up in Vancouver, he even showed me a picture, and I could've sworn they were twins aside from the few differences from the hair style, eyes, size and the fact that Matthew seemed shyer and less well to put it simply Alfred. Alfred couldn't understand why people keep saying that he and his brother were twins and how it annoyed him to be compared to his brother, it didn't bother him much but everyone would mistake Matthew for him, I guessed it was because he was more outgoing then Matthew, well at least he seemed like it anyway. He explained he and his brother Matthew are a year apart and Matthew is the oldest. I tend to agree with that logic, Alfred seemed to be a child in an adult's body. But I can't remember anything past that, just snippets of memories, I found myself on my second or third drink, tipsy and unbalanced I began to speak French with a mixture of English and had collapsed on the floor, only to realise that the kind Yank had lifted my lifeless, semi-unconscious body up the stairs and placed me on my bed. I felt a warm feeling on my forehead and the American moved to my ear and whispered something I couldn't make out what it was but I knew that I would be seeing him again, as his warm breath wisped its way over my ears it gave a pleasant tickling feeling then I could feel the air brush past me as the Yank left. I didn't move I just burrowed my face into the pillow and gave a slight groan knowing I would have a massive hangover in the morning.

And I was right I did…Fuck my life!

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**A/N Hey guys this is my first USxUK fanfic so excited for it I have major plans for them mwhahhaha. I am hoping that you guys will enjoy reading this, I will say it is a rough sketch so there are a few mistakes here and there that I may have missed due to laziness. Whoops my bad! I will hopefully write weekly so this should be out next Saturday Sundayish depending on your timezone!**

**Oh and just a little information though it says Alfred is a news-reporter he is actually part of the Mafia, is sorta like a coverup, but don't worry we will get into Alfred's side next week I promise, so you can find out all you need to know about our little American friend... **

**Reviews? Favourites? Follows? Suggestions! Please I need help with this and I am throwing my hands out there for anyone of you guys who can help me! I am also in need for some Oc's so Pm me to find out more info about how your Oc can get in the fanfic!**

**Alrighty folks that's all! See you guys next week! **

**Lk Huggles! :3**


	2. Blood Stained Maple Leaf

American Guns and an English Rose

Tea and Scone Alliance

09/02/2014

**Warning! **This chapter contains blood, rape scenes and an abused little boy. And before we go on I apologize for the time jumps so this is first person US and this is roughly 1-2 days before he meet Arthur. I really wanted to get into Alfred's side, but after this I promise more cutesy USxUK I swears!

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Chapter 2 US POV: **Blood stained maple leaf.**

Memories, memories as painful as nightmares that somehow always crept into my dreams, like a sly and conniving fox. I had never wanted to go back to my childhood but somehow my dreams had always lead me there for no matter how hard I tried to block them out. I hated the nights when these memories came, it pained me to go back to them but it was even worse when I was watching from afar seeing every emotion I had felt that day, it imprinted on my heart and made my head swim with dizziness. As I laid down on the bed and tried my hardest to stay awake not wanting to submit to the darkest corners of my mind, I struggled to fight my body to stay awake but eventually I gave in as I closed my eyes, another memory I had attempted to forget just came crawling back to me, weak but deceiving.

Two blonde haired children were swinging on the swing sets in their local park. The season was more than likely autumn on the border of winter, seeing as the two children were bundled up in endless thick sweaters, thermals and a long flowing scarf each colour different per child, the taller one seemed to have a deep pacific blue scarf waving in the small breeze as it had been slightly tattered and worn, not abused just well used, while the other had a red almost crimson scarf that had been neatly tucked into his sweater.

The grass had small amounts of frost sprinkled into the dirt and the ground was scattered in leaves with an array of different colours. There were oranges, yellows, reds, browns with the odd golden maple leaf in the mix and a few green ones that have not yet withered from the cold wind and lack of nutrition and water. The swing set was surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of leafless trees. The American elm and Canadian maple trees stood there naked and bare, depicted from any feeling of happiness and warmth and were enveloped in a veil of sadness and despair.

The children were a different story, their laughs carried along the wind echoing around the park, as each time it swung back and gave a loud ear piercing shriek, the pair continued laughing with large smiling grins upon both faces, even though their surroundings seemed gloomy and unwelcoming the swing set seemed to be opposite, somehow it felt like a safe haven, to escape from life. The taller one began to speak to the smaller one

"Hey, Mattie, when you get better we can go and do this every day!" The voice was a cheery and loud rather obnoxious as the boy glanced beside to his brother who was giving a frail smile.

"Yeah, we should do this eve—"Matthew began to cough as he began to spoke, his breath was short but he was able to finish his sentence. "Every day, when I'm better, I promise, Alfred."

"Hehe, I'm glad you come out with me today, usually you're inside, why'd you come out today?" Curiosity beamed through the boy's eyes still fixated on Matthew as his body swung back and forth from the swings gentle movement.

"Well, I wanted to co—"

Suddenly the happiness was stripped away from the pair when unexpectedly the smaller one had fallen off the swing almost winded, and had begun to squirm uncontrollably on the floor coughing up bright red blood mixed in with mucus on the now blood covered maple leaf with large raspy pants in between each gasp of air he desperately grasped to take.

The older one fell off the swing landing a bit wobbly on his feet and rushed to his aid, trying his hardest to stabilize the shorter boy, lifting him up so that he was lying on his trembling lap, head facing the other boys head and eyes filled with fear and pure horror. They somehow found it to only make it worse as he started violently shaking in the hands of the other boy, the older boy gripped him tight, and he knew he couldn't stop it but he wanted to at least try to make it slow down in speed.

The taller boy could feel tears form at the corners of the other boys eyes; he quickly reached up a hand and wiped it with the sleeve of his sweater. The taller boy began to yell out and scream in a state of panic hoping someone anyone would come to help his brother. He broke down crying, tears streaming down his cheeks and trailing of his skin landing on his brother's warm sweater shattering upon impact.

Large heavy footsteps followed by small clicks of high heels came running at the sound of the taller boy's cry, rushing over to both boys and pushing the taller boy away to tend to the smaller boy. The taller boy sat there crying, for both his brother and for himself. He knew that his brother's condition was not the best, he had caught a cold earlier that winter and his parents were unable to afford proper medicine, eventually it got worse and led to this horrific conclusion. He pounded his fist into the ground sending a light flurry of maple leaves up from the ground to eventually float back to the ground floor.

"Why?" the boy mumbled to himself in a whisper. "MATTHEW, WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE YOU, WHY?! ITS ALL MY FAULT ITS ALL MY FAULT! YOU NEVER DESERVED THIS YOU DESERVE BETTER! ITS ALL MY FAULT!" Tears never seemed to stop flowing from his watery blue eyes as the whisper erupted into a yell of mixed emotions all which were filled with anger and sorrow that he didn't know was aimed at. The taller boy looked up at the sky; the sky was dark ominous that seemed to cry for Matthew as pockets of rain mixed in with snow white snowflakes twinkled down from the sky. The cool rain fell onto his nose and he began to feel defenceless and bare as if he had lost what he had needed to stay alive and now he was left to slowly die along with his brother.

On this downcast day Matthew was diagnosed with bronchiectasis, as much as it had shocked me somehow I felt I knew it was a day coming. Some sick and twisted feeling was left inside my body to think that someday all the ignored coughs and wheezes would catch up to Matthew.

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I gasped and shot up from the bed sitting up on the plump mattress, covered in cold sweat and a fast paced heartbeat pounding in my chest, I moved my hand to press it against my heart to feel how fast it was beating but I had mainly moved it so I could gain some support over my shaking, unsteady body. I found myself tangled in between the white bed linen as I tried to slow down my breathing to a more relaxed and steady rhythm, eventually I calmed down both my breathing and my pulse, but I still felt a slight jagged pain still clutching to my heart.

I shook my head rather aggressively as I tried to snap back to reality. That happened a long time ago, Matthew is fine now, he's in Vancouver he has a girlfriend who loves him as he does to her, he is fine. Convincing myself this seemed like quite a hassle, but I pushed myself out of the bed linen not wanting to linger on the thought anymore then my memory and mind had played out.

I felt like a useless puppet to an unknown malicious master of time, who could strip me bare each piece of clothing one by one then he would grab my cock and force me to endure as he raped me right then and there gripping it tight as I screamed from the pang and fear itself hoping someone would come to my aid or he would spare me the pain and make it less torturing by whipping my exposed skin right up until I was bruised, scared and bloody, each cry I gave would send him into a frenzy rapidly thrusting the whip into my back as I screamed out in immense and unbearable pain.

I jumped out of bed at the thought and ran to the door of my bedroom to hastily twist it upon giving a screech as the door was old and the inside structure was worn out. I walked down the hallway trailing my fingers along the blue painted wallpaper; I could feel the paint as it was starting to peel of the backboard of the wall. My apartment was a dump. As far as I could say but it's what I called home.

It was a one floor apartment with 1 bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen and lounge room. It was a very small apartment, with a kitchen you would have to suck your stomach in to be able to make it to the wooden bench top, the kitchen wasn't fancy it was a simple kitchen a stovetop, fridge and a few small wooden cupboards that were filled with messily stacked porcelain plates and cups.

The lounge room was quite simple as well with only a few differences, there was a light red shaded parlour couch in the middle of the room that had matching parlour arm chairs. There was also a rug in between the two arm chairs and just in front of the couch, it was an awful traditional rug that's colours didn't fit with the room it was a horrible combination of greens, browns and whites, each time I took a look at the carpet I almost get the urge to throw it out the window and let it fall onto the pavement of the streets, knowing that someone would probably need it more than I did, in the corner of the room stood a golden brown phonogram. The phonogram was covered in dust being neglected in the corner for years, I wanted to play it once more, remind me of all those times were I was happy and felt that I was loved and belonged.

I walked up into the kitchen looking as the yellow wallpaper of the kitchen clashed against the blue of the hallway. I put my dented metal kettle the stovetop and turned on the gas using my lighter, as I flicked on the lighter I didn't flinch as I looked down to the stars and stripes that was imprinted onto the lighter how it made me fill up with pride for my country. I walked away from the kitchen to the bathroom, hoping that a good generous splash of water to the face would wake me up.

A whistle of impatience came from the kettle as I walked back out from the bathroom, toothbrush hanging out of my mouth and my face covered in toothpaste. I ran over to the eagerly awaiting kettle and twisted the knob of the stovetop so that the gas turned off and died down.

I reached into the cupboard that was above my head and pulled out a seemly clean coffee cup, I placed it down on the bench as I moved the kettle from the stovetop to the bench. I ducked down to the cupboard underneath me to grasp out some of my favourite instant coffee and sugar, oh how horrid coffee tasted without at least 5 teaspoons of sugar and a bit of honey, but I was all out of honey.

After I had finished making the coffee I walked into the lounge room and placed the mug down at the small rounded birch wooded table. Not long after I trudged my way over to the door, seeing as I felt no need to rush this morning, I didn't have to do anything until later this evening. I opened the door to find a newspaper already sitting on my doorstep, all rolled up neatly in a tight little package with a red rubber band wrapped around the middle squeezing the paper in place to make sure it would stay intact.

Picking it up and heading back inside I heard yelling from upstairs, I sighed and mumbled to myself "Jeez, What did Roderich do this time?" Not wanted to get involved in something that clearly wasn't my business I closed the door shut and headed back to the table.

To my surprise, there on the table sat my new and shiny Colt M1911 Pistol. It was a gift from the Varga's family, specifically from Rome, I didn't know his real name but that's what everyone seemed to call him that. I stared glumly down at the gun. The thought of killing someone cold blooded with my newly fabricated pistol that was armed and at the ready, literally makes me want to break down and cry. No matter if the person was innocent or not, I could never bring myself up to killing someone. The only reason I had joined the family in the first place was to be able to repay a debt to one of Rome's grandchildren, Feliciano or Feli for short. Feli was a sweet and seemly innocent boy when we had first met at times square all those years ago. I can remember it like it was yesterday.

* * *

I was walking down the street hand in hand with my older brother, we both had warm winter jackets with colours that blended well together, still wearing the scarves from when we were 7 and our mother had taken only half a day to knit both of them with precession and as well as a brown leather satchel wrapped around my shoulder. I felt as each snowflake fell down from the grey clouded sky and mixed into the city's asphalt road that was covered in dirt and white snow sludge, when the snowflakes mixed into the ground they too turned into a dark and lifeless colour. As each and every minute passed Matthew would let out a large throaty chesty cough and slightly wheeze, I held him close each time this happened, trying my hardest to be a supporting younger brother to my weak and vulnerable brother for I know he would have done the same.

I looked around to see nothing but large crowds of people who seemed to be all walking in the same direct almost like ants, large and blinding billboards were placed all around the city and almost on every tall overshadowing building and overly packed buses so much different from my home town in Virginia, we were visiting Manhattan due to my father's job in the army.

Not looking at the time I crashed head first into someone, I fell forward as well as the person just making it in time for me to push my hands out to slightly break the fall, lying on the ground to inspect my surroundings I looked up to Matthew to see if he was ok, he just gave a ginger smile at the corners of his cheeks, I could tell on the inside he was slightly laughing at the fact I had completely embarrassed myself in front of basically the whole of Manhattan, but knew all too well if he were to start laughing he wouldn't be able to stop causing him to cough rather violently against his will and I would have to rush over to the satchel which was now lying twisted and caught between my legs and grab out his pills which he was supposed to have at least twice a day, I felt like a mother to Matt scolding him each time he had been dumbfound and forgotten.

I pulled my head up almost simultaneously with the person in front of me dusting off the small amounts of snow off my jacket as the stranger got up as well. I looked at the persons face, immediately at first it looked like a girl a little bit younger than I was but after a few moments I could gather it was a boy, with large shaking brown eyes that quickly sunk down to half lidded eyes along with long eyelashes that looked as if they had been naturally born with mascara, the face was a soft yet sort of chubby as the person alike myself had not grown out of their baby face, tucked behind a red tattered beanie was a mess of brown hair that had a rather noticeable curl sticking out the side of his hair simply not wanting to be in the hat. Their face was flushed red as they began to dust themselves off as well, their clothes looked rather poor and overly used as if they had nothing else to wear.

The person had a grey knitted cardigan which appeared to have one or two buttons missing and looked as if it used to be white; to my utter shock it had a few drops of blood on it as well. Under the cardigan they wore a thin dark blue sweater that looked like it didn't provide much if any warmth; on their bottom half they wore faded brown slacks with a few holes in the fabric along with a pair of brown leather boots with the tip of the shoe being grazed and slightly shabby in use.

Suddenly the stranger moved forward to grab onto my hand sputtering out a mess of apologizes both in English and Italian? Wow that surprised me. I moved the boy's hand back to his sides and rubbed the back of my neck clearing my throat rather quickly as I looked behind the boy to see a rather angry looking boy who looked a little like the person who I had run into, slightly older and a much more stubborn and aggressive demeanour, before I spoke I looked down onto the pavement to see a few pairs of silver cutlery scattered on the floor. Stealing? That's what they have been doing, I had the urge to take them into custody for their crime like a good hero should but something snapped in my mind telling me not to, they were only kids, younger than me, by the looks of things they seem to be struggling every day.

"Dude, are you ok? Oh man I am so sorry, I guess I didn't see you!" I said trying to come across as apologetic as I possibly could. I never really was good at apologizing or manners in that matter of fact.

"Oh n-no I am fine, grazie I should h—" The voice was high but still a distinct males voice, just as he was going to forgive me, the older brother had spoken up.

"So should you, you potato eating bastard. Why don't you watch were you are going!" He said as he began to crouch down on the floor to pick up the silverware and stuff it back into the pockets of his matching cardigan ever so discreetly trying hard to make the situation less awkward and suspicious. He got back up to his feet straightening up his hat and adjusting his curl to a more comfortable and fitting angle.

"Can I make it up to you somehow? Maybe you guys could have lunch with us?" I said trying to ignore the rude comment from the older brother before Matt gave me a shy nudge of the shoulder telling him not to. I just shrugged him off and continued speaking, looking to Matt more than the two Italians "C'mon it can't be that bad, I mean mom and dad are just in the bookshop a few stores back and they wouldn't mind if I brought some friends to lunch."

"That's sounds motto bene! What do you say Fratello? C'mon it wouldn't hurt and by the looks of things you certainly need it." The younger one said as he poked his index finger into his brother's stomach, childishly teasing him, before the older one swiped his hand away from him almost giving the younger one a smack on the hand. The younger one pulled his hands back to his side and let his brother answer the impending question.

The older brother gave a defeated sigh. "Fine, I guess you are right Feli, we are looking on the slim side and some food would be good wouldn't it?" He said as he looked down to the younger boy now named Feli "And maybe they could eat pasta." As soon as he said that one word a bright light lit across Feli's face as he burrowed his face and wrapped his arms around his brothers waist before the older brother swatted him away again, crossing his arms and gave a slight huff.

"Well that's settled. Oh before we go, I'm Alfred and this is my brother Matthew." I said gesturing my hand other to Matt as he lifted up his hand and gave a slight wave through a tender smile.

"Oh how could I be so silly, I am Feliciano and this is my big big brother Lovino, he's a bit pazzo but he is still my brother." Feli said as he gripped his brother's hand and began to rub up against his brother showing his affection in a cute and strangely bizarre way but I blame it on them being Italian and Italian families have a really close and quite creepy relationship with each family member. Lovino yet again pushed him off and Feli gave a slight frown before moving over to me.

"So can we get some pasta? I'm starving!" Feli said as he rubbed his stomach in fast paced circles to prove his point I just laughed and led them ahead. Feli and I in front followed closely behind by Matthew and Lovino who were having a quiet conversation, I couldn't hear what though as the sound of the bustling city seemed to drown out the sound.

That was the start of my relationship with Feli as the best friend I had ever known. We became friends by helping each other in our time of struggles. I helped him when he was a pauper on the street, eventually he and his brother had moved into their grandfathers house and were given luxuries even I didn't possess, while he had helped me during my time when thoughts of suicide and self-inflicting pain had crept into my mind.

These selfish and thoughtless ideas had slipped through my head and left me only thinking of myself, I never took the fact how it would affect Mom, Lovi and especially Matthew and Feli. I had never thought about what they would feel, how would they feel? What could they feel? I knew my mom wouldn't care she had always hated me from the moment I was born, she always made me feel like I didn't belong, unlike my late father who would often be the only other person besides Matthew who would consider me as a person. I couldn't imagine Lovi crying at all, maybe standing over my coffin with his hat over his heart and a face saying how much of an idiot I was. Matthew and Feli would take it most to heart; I could imagine Feli collapsing in front of the coffin or even in the walkway towards the coffin with a rose in hand placing it on top of the coffin covered in tears both his face and the flower, Matthew would have no resolve at all possibly to shaken up to even talk not that he did anyway, just tears, endless tears flowing from his large watery violet eyes. I would die to let my selfish thoughts end and leave them with something that they themselves could not live with.

I looked back to the gun that was still sitting on the table top; I picked it up carefully sliding my hands over the guns barrel, "Lady Liberty." I whispered quietly as my thumb caressed over the barrel that had those words engraved into it, in a fancy and neat cursive writing. I took a moment to stare down at the gun that was lying in my hands and slowly reached it up to my head, slightly jabbing it against my ear, I cocked the trigger being mindful that the trigger guard was always faulty never knowing if it were to fire or not. My hands grew shaky as I pressed it closer to my ear. A swell of thoughts rushed through my brain both positive and negative unable to listen to either, I pulled my free hand up to my heart clutching my loose shirt in hand, as I threw the gun over to the couch as it bounced on impact and rolled over before finally stopping at the foot of the armchair. I felt as my knees began to buckle having no strength to pull myself up, I leant forward and fell holding my knees as I fell forward crying into them as a large gush of soppy tears came seeping down from my eyes.

I stayed there on the floor for a long time, unable to tell how long I've been kneeling there arched forward and tears that were now completely dry. Had it been minutes, hours? I couldn't care as I managed to push myself up from the floor, still a bit unbalanced but I managed to stay up right…miraculously.

I managed to sit in the chair of my table. I reached an arm out to the cup of coffee that had been sitting on the table for god knows how long. I picked it up by the handle; it was still hot but not as blistering as it was before. I raised the mug to my lips allowing them to sit over the top of the cup slightly split apart from bottom to top lip, I spilt the coffee a little, thankful that it wasn't too hot for it had accidentally poured onto my left leg, I gave a slightly annoyed grunt but paid no attention to it. I then took the newspaper that was sitting on the table still wrapped up as an unopened Christmas present. Oh how I loved Christmas. I've always wanted to spend it with someone special, but sadly no matter how many girlfriends I had received none had made me feel like I loved them and they loved me back. Somehow they only wanted me for sex, another useless object in their minds as they passed from one clueless man to the next. How deceiving and annoyingly teasing woman are. I unwrapped the newspaper from its cute little wrapper and paced the red rubber band down on the table, while I began to scan the newspaper for anything at least interesting. I looked to the back of paper were sports were, I began searching for my news article about the New York Yankees.

_Left in the dust yet again. _

_6/23/23_

_It was a bright and sunny day today, good day to start a friendly game of baseball or is it? Yankee fans and Browns filled into Yankee Stadium both fans anticipating for a jaw dropper of a game. The game went off with a hit, Yankees leading by a large margin. After going two-for-four with a double, two runs batted in and a run scored, Yankee's star first basemen Wally Pipp was pulled aside by manager Miller Huggins to let shiny new and ready to go young blood rookie Lou Gehrig to make his major debut in the Yankees 10-0 victory over the Browns. Many Browns fans had already left the stadium by the time the score was at 5-0. Have the browns lost faith in their fans? Yankees make an awesome start to this baseball season._

_By the awesomely amazing hero of sport Alfred F. Jones._

I gave a relieved but ecstatic sigh as I folded the paper in half and slid it into the pocket of my blue and white pyjama pants that still had the brown coffee stain on my leg. I slid out of the chair and ran over to the kitchen sink to place the cup onto of a plate that I had forgotten to put away the previous night. 'If I ever had a wife, she would immediately hate me' I thought as I inspected my surroundings. Mess, complete mess was what I sat in. Dirty dishes stacked up on top of one another along with a few piles of dirty and used clothes laying on the floor here and there in a messy and unordinary fashion. "Oh fuck me I'm gonna be late!" I said looking up to the wall clock. 3 o'clock. I rushed over to my bedroom door, as I slammed it shut in a hurry I felt a few loose objects in the bookshelf rattle in unrelaxing disturbance.

* * *

The atmosphere was strangely and unnervingly quiet, all of course for Feli who was chatting up a storm with the pretty girl who I think was Olga the youngest daughter of the don of the Braninski's family. She had pale porcelain skin that seemed to fit well with her light pink dress that had a white coat that had both large rounded black buttons tied up over the top, her faded blonde close to silver hair was tied up in a neat side French braid bun that I assumed her mother Natalia had done.

Ivan and Natalia's relationship was a rather confusing one in my opinion, Ivan hated her and was often scared of her at first she seemed to have a fiery Belarusian attitude to her and would often be seen as the man of the relationship so to speak, but that changed when he knew he had given his wife too much power and finally lost it, he had straightened her out and she became like most of the other don wives, sitting quietly next to their sons or daughters with a wry smile on her face and only spoke when her husband had given her permission to, other than that she sat quietly next to her oldest daughter Anastasiya who was also quiet as a mouse with her hands in her lap and her eyes fixated on her shoes. Her hair was tied back in a tight and skin stretching bun with the same dress as Olga just in lavender purple.

We were all situated in the Varga's family's dining hall. It was beautiful, the floor checker black and white marble tiles, the walls were like the tiles but more of creamy beige with large columns that were carved into the walls. At the end of the hall there was a large square shaped window that spread out across the entire back wall, on the other side stood the door, it was a large wooden double door with a handle that was made of gold. In the room stood a large class table that was set out with chairs that fitted the table with a champagne gold cushion placed into the chair. Set out on the table was an endless amount of silverware and china plates, I gave a slight smirk at the thought that they had been stealing silverware as kids and now they were the ones who seemed to be stolen off.

All three families sat in the chairs of the table. There seemed to be a space for were each family sat as the invisible border sat, no one daring to cross. At the end of the table sat Rome or Nono Rome as Feli loved to call him (still no have clue what it means) next to him was Feli who looked as cheery as usual as he was still blurting out words to Olga who was surprisingly sitting across from Feli and directly to the right of Rome. I sat next to Feli my hands fisted into the pants of my suit, how I hated wearing a tuxedo but I knew I would be ridiculed if I didn't, I moved my hands up to my black tie and straightened it for the 15th time that hour before Gilbert slapped his hand against my shoulder, I gave a hiss at him before he turned his attention to Lovino who was sitting beside him, looking rather annoyed that he did not get to sit next to his grandfather. Lovi had always told me that he was never Rome's favourite; I gave little sympathy to Lovi for I wasn't interested in it.

In order of the left side of the table from Lovi sat Ludwig, a German hired by Rome seeing he had a good shot, he stayed only because Feli had asked him to otherwise he'd most likely be back in Germany, after Ludwig was hired Gilbert immediately followed, we presumed that they were good friends in need of a job until we later found out they were brothers, Gilbert being the oldest as surprising as it was Ludwig always seemed more mature than his brother.

There stood an empty chair between Ludwig and the three henchmen as I liked to call them Raivis, Toris and Edaurd. They seem useless as a rock by themselves but together, boy they were trouble, they choose to fight with words rather than physical actions but it still felt as painful as any bullet wound, so I choose to always speak politely to them otherwise I might find myself in hospital, as persuasion was their best aspect.

Tino sat beside the three henchmen, I much liked Tino for he and I had an obsession with Christmas that was oddly strange as it was amusing, the finish man was a gentle soul as he liked to put it a dainty flower blowing in the wind or something along those lines, though he was gentle he had a sickly obsession with explosives often blowing up buildings to discard of unwanted evidence that side of the man scared me to the bone.

The Asian mafia was surprising seeing as it had both men and women in the family and a few European and African members in the mix. Angelique in the middle of Tino and Sasha, her chocolate-brown hair in pigtails and a brightly lit smile upon her face, she was friendly enough but came across as a dumb bimbo from time to time, she was mainly used for information, she was rather good in sneaking in places where she shouldn't and gathering information such as the latest Chinese Opium trade which Grandpa Rome was rather impatient to see shipped over to America.

She was having a rather relaxed conversation with Sasha, Ivan's only son and his most favourite child, the boy looked like his sisters except for the exception of a skin pigmentation that was placed over his left cheek, I couldn't describe the shape but it somehow looked like the familiar Russian sickle but without the star, I think that was one of the many reasons why he favoured the boy, the boy was sweat, a bit more than his father and would like his father scare others without meaning to, I felt sorry for him but at first he scared me shitless. At the end of the table sat Ivan don of the Braginski family who was who was directly eyeing the inattentive Francis Bonnefoy; he was a rather menacing looking man to those who didn't know him that well.

Im Yoing sat directly to the left of Francis with a glum look on his face which was very unusual for the South Korean. Francis Bonnefoy the wild card of the Wang mafia family, we agreed for him to sit at the end of the table so that Ivan's daughters would still have their virginity by the end of the night, knowing that sleazy Frenchman would take up any women who he found the least bit beautiful…sometimes even men.

Kiku sat next to Francis, Kiku is a very quiet and humble person until you piss him off (of course he's Japanese so you can't be too friendly) despite the fact that sword fighting died down years ago he is expertly talented with a samurai sword which he carries with him everywhere never leaving at out of his sight (surprised customs didn't take it off him when he came to America). Yao the don sat next to Kiku with an intrigued look on his face as he twiddled with his pony tail that was sitting to the side of his head hanging rather low.

Next to him sat his wife Mei, beautiful as ever dressed in a pale pink qipao with a golden trim to the cuffs that complemented her silky brown hair, she looked so out-of-place against everyone else but somehow that didn't matter she looked as regal as ever. An overly joyous person sat next to Mei, she was wide-eyed and looking rather excited for a meeting, I had only heard that he was rather skilled with a rifle and would often put out her body for money and persuasion if needed, I didn't know her name but she came across Vietnamese, she wore a green dress that went so well with her golden eyes, half of her hair tied up as a ponytail that hung of the left side of her head.

Yao's two sons Zihao and Xiaodan sat next to the Vietnamese girl, quiet as ever I swear they never spoke, they just glared at each other almost telepathically. Next to the boy's was Natalie, Anastaysia and Olga who was still sputtering out words to Feli.

Before the situation could get more awkward (for me anyway) Rome sat up out of his chair and gently tapped the empty wine glass with the bulky end of the silver teaspoon immediately grasping everyone's attention. He cleared his throat as he raised his voice to make sure everyone could hear.

"You all know why you are here and if you don't than I gather you haven't been properly informed." Of course everyone knew. I looked around to examine each and everyone's faces most people understood but a few such as Olga and Anastaysia who looked slightly confused before Rome spoke up again. "Well If you don't we have come here to discuss peace between our three families."

"Not to intrude but I understand that not all members are present." Yao said as straightened up his back and shifted his gaze to Ivan, with that all eyes followed to Ivan's beaming down at him. 'What had he been talking about?' I wondered.

"Da, that is true. I apologize my newly hired member could not be here, but rest assure you will all meet him. I hate to brag but he is quite good with a gun. But was told to come here for peace not an interrogation session, Yao." Ivan shot back at the Chinese man clearly offended by him. Yao slouched back into his chair not wishing to say anymore.

"Now, that's all cleared up we must consider the terms and conditions of this declaration…"

The meeting dragged on, I swear I fell asleep at one point until dinner was served, Pasta. The one thing I really loved about Italian food (with the exception of pizza of course). At one point I saw that Ivan had switched his water with vodka that he had hidden the pocket of his jacket, I didn't say anything merely laughing to myself and trying to be as discrete as possible. Thankfully Olga and Anastaysia both had their virginity by the end of the evening that Frenchmen stayed clear of them thanks to the help of Ivan and Natalie.

After the meeting finished Gilbert walked up to me and gave a slight tap of my shoulder, his red eyes now brighter than ever. "If you have time you should come with me and visit this awesome pub, their beer brings awesome tears to my awesome eyes, even though it isn't German, It's called the English Rose, you should check it out, it's pretty close to you."

That name I've heard of it before, I never really took much advice from Gilbert but a suggestion couldn't hurt could it? I gave a slight shrug "Yeah, I suppose when I have nothing better to do." I said sleepily, all I wanted to do was get home and basically collapse on my bed, couch floor I don't care. I saw as Gilberts eyes lit up with anticipation.

"Great, you should come tomorrow, knowing me I'll be there early so roughly 8pm. You'll recognise me as the drunk sleeping on the table." Gilbert slightly joked as he pulled his hands behind his heads

"Thanks but I probably won't be there that early, probably around 11-12pm if lucky."

"It's not like you to have somewhere to be. What are you doing?" Gilbert asked as his eyes bubbled up with curiosity, I couldn't possibly tell him, even though he was my friend Rome told me not to tell a soul, not even Feli knew.

"Doesn't matter, its none of your concern." I didn't want to tell him the truth it wasn't it worth it after all Rome asked me specifically to do this. Tomorrow evening I'll be meeting Rome and Lovi in an alleyway in the middle of Manhattan to 'interrogate a man' as Rome liked to put it, in reality I knew what it meant, a shootout. With firearms shooting lead bullets as falsely accused or falsely innocent men collapsed to the ground bleeding and crying in the dirt, almost reminding me of Matthew at the thought when we were kids. I clutched my heart at the memory.

I still hold up to the vow that I would never kill a man unless they trying to kill me. The only reason I had ever took this job was because I was desperate, I was left out on the streets often being seen begging for food, money or anything I could get from kind-hearted people, after my father died, my mom couldn't even look at me the same way before.

If Feli didn't find me coughing and crying next to a dumpster on a cold and rainy night, I most likely wouldn't be here today, I owe my life to Feli as much as he does to me, I had only recently found out that his grandfather had gotten rich in the criminal business and with nowhere else to go I took the job they offered to me without hesitation, after all I was always a good shot.

"All right then see ya later, my American friend!" He gave a two figured salute as he sprinted to his car. I stood there looking rather confused then turned to walk to my car. As I got to my car I dug around for my keys in my seemly endless pocket, as soon as I found them I opened the door, lit the ignition and drove off for home, while thoughts of tomorrow would swim around my head for the next two days.

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**A/N**

**Holy Crap you guys 11 followers and 4 favourites! I love you all so much! Sorry about this chapter but I neeeded to get onto Alfred's side of the story but I promise more cutesy USxUK next chapter! You have my word! So what did you think? Yeah his story is kinda sad but Arthur makes up for it! Sorry bout the unwanted OC's but they play a very important role in the story especially Olga and Anasyasia!**

**Also WINTER GAMES! Super excited! I have no doubt that England will claim them all mwhahha! No I kid I am so excited for hockey! I love Canadians and hockey so good you guys!**

**Welp welp thats all folks! See ya next week!**

**LK :3**


	3. Take me out to the ball game

American Guns and an English Rose

Tea and Scone Alliance

15/2/14

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:.:.:.:.:.:

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**WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS, VIOLENCE,DRUG USE AND HANKY PANKY TIME... (lol not really)  
**

Please note this chapter is in third person, just because it's difficult to write it in first person with what's in store for this chapter. This chapter as a bit more spunk if you know what I mean *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge* ;) enjoy… Also I wanted to give a huge shout out to my readers! Thanks a bunch for following, favouriting, reviewing and just plain reading! I'm getting a lot of love from the US of A so thank you so much my American friends! **DON'T YOU DARE REPORT THIS OR A COLOSSAL TITAN WILL COME TO YOU AND KILL YOUR ARSE! Thanks Lk :3**

**I also want to apologize in advance for I know nothing of Baseball... my bad :3**

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**Chapter 3: Take me out to the ballgame.**

Arthur awoke the next morning with a massive twinge of pain swelling in his head, he was right; he had woken up with a hangover. He groaned as he rolled over on his side, trying to find a more comfortable position as he lay above the sheets and white comforter, no matter how much he tried he couldn't find the comfortable position that he oh so desired. The thought of the sapphire blue eyed man, Alfred swam through his head; he couldn't get that obnoxious American out of his head and how it annoyed the Brit that the American disrupted his train of thought not to mention the hangover didn't help either.

As Arthur rose from the bed rather groggily he noticed that he was still in his clothes from the day before, now the waistband of his slacks had imprinted on his cold pale skin leaving faint red lines just above his hips, almost like a tattoo inked onto his pale skin. He opened the wooden door to his bedroom as it gave a squeak; he yawned and walked to the bathroom that was directly opposite it.

He opened the door to the bathroom and inspected the contents inside the room, normally he wouldn't but thanks to his hangover his vision was rather hazy. Stumbling into the room he slowly slid off his white slightly dirty shirt from the previous night that smelled heavily of bourbon, he looked around to find anything recognisable, almost loosing balance over the bath matt on the floor he noticed the basin opposite the bathtub.

He wobbled towards it bending down in the dip of the basin, sinking his hands into the brass basin that looked rather old and well used but clean. Arthur looked up to the mirror that was sitting just above the brass basin to see a tired face with large black bags underneath his bloodshot eyes. He gave a slightly annoyed moan as he moved in closer to the mirror moving his hands from the sink up to his eyes, pulling the bags in front of his eyes down hoping it would somehow it would make him at least somewhat decent, as he expected, it didn't.

With one twist he turned on the faucet allowing the water to come spiralling out of the tap, he dug his hands into the cool water that had now created to a small shallow puddle at the bottom of the sink, allowing the water to pour into his hands he rose them to his face allowing a small trickle of water to escape the grasp of his hands, splashing the water onto his face he gave a relieved sigh as it slightly dulled the pounding and irritating headache, he reached over to the towel sitting opposite to the faucet, he allowed his thumb to lightly rub over the stitched letter 'A' on the towel that's shade was a light purple almost lavender, to contemplate the purple almost pink rose that was sewn into the white towel with perfect almost machine made precision.

Repeating the same motion he walked back into his room, shutting the door behind him. He angled himself so that his head and body backed into the door and slid in a quick motion down the door over the handle, almost landing on the floor, almost. He pushed himself off the door rubbing slow and gentle circles over his arse and walked to the foot of his bed, there he leant all of his body weight forward so it tilted causing him to fall rather ungracefully onto his bed.

He burrowed his face into the pillow wishing his throbbing headache would vanish, but something else was on his mind besides the headache. Alfred, that bloody American, that Arthur could not wipe away like most of the spills on his bar table, in a way Alfred was more of a wine stain on carpet, annoying to clean but thirst quenching to drink, he shook his head still thinking of the man, the way his golden locks melted in with the dull and dim lights of the bar ever so intrinsically as if it was desperately needed as the rooms missing puzzle piece that now was fit into place. His eyes blue as the ocean, the blue orbs twinkled as if they were fireflies in a blue glass lantern shrouded by his glasses that Arthur couldn't imagine him without them His lips, how he could only imagine them kissing him all over his body ever so passionately and with the greatest affection, he would gently grasps the golden blonde hair of Alfred as he leaned in closer bodies pressing ag—'no, I can't think those vulgar thoughts, it just isn't right' Arthur thought to himself attempting to pull himself out of his perverted daydream.

As if on cue he heard an echoing knock from the main door down stairs. At that moment fear should have been bubbling up in his body but it was more of an annoyed feeling so he replied not thinking of what the consequences if he had.

"Go away, no one's home." Arthur said but it was rather muffled as he stuffed his face into his pillow creasing the fabric as he let his head burrow into it, the person downstairs didn't seem to hear, he heard the door creak open, he recognised it immediately for it had a distinct creak to it never changing no matter how much oil was placed into the frame. 'Shit, did I leave it open?' he wondered trying to regain some of memory of the previous night 'Shit, I didn't lock it.' He remembered he was so drunk that someone had gently laid him on the bed, shit he was so drunk he couldn't even climb the stairs.

"Arthur?" said a voice unrecognisable, from the distance it came out as a quiet whisper.

_Dare I respond?_ The Brit wondered anxiously as anxiety swelled throughout the Brit's body, he felt his chest begin to tighten as a reaction of fear. He wondered who was in his house and why did they know his name. He couldn't find the strength to reply so he sat there waiting quietly as the only noise in the room was his pounding heartbeat. He tried to relax to slow down the rapidly beating heart but that only seemed to worsen it, making it beat fiercely unable to stop it.

He heard a few shuffling footsteps coming from downstairs, he sat there in utter turmoil not knowing what was coming. He heard the footsteps cease as he wiped the sweat that was glistening off his forehead with the back of his hand, he gave a quick and elated 'phew' before the shuffling turned into the creaking of the stairs. As soon as the first creak gave way Arthur hesitantly glanced through the room trying to find something that was the least bit threatening to the unknown assailant. He looked on his desk to see a letter knife sitting over the top of an already opened letter, he scurried to his desk and grasped for the knife, as he did the knife fell to the floor with a loud clunk and a scrape of the wood. "Fuck." Arthur whispered under his breath, they knew he was there now. He jostled himself to the floor and briskly picked up the letter knife, at first he was squeezing onto it almost bruising his hands which were know turning into a mix of blue and purple at the palms, to an unsteady clutch of the knife.

More eager steps followed after until Arthur had counted there were only roughly 10 or so steps to his room and the mysterious person was on the last one. The creaking turned into slow heavy footsteps as each step pressed down into the wooden floor to intensify the suspension and the foreboding feeling. As the footsteps stopped Arthur realised that they had finally reached his bedroom door, as the door handle began to twist from the force from the other side all Arthur could do was cower from the underside of his bed, not that he was much of a coward but he honestly had no clue who was on the other side. With Letter Knife in hand he took action, cautiously stepping up from the bed and moving to the door, slowly with a steady speed, he thought to himself that'd he'd rather die a true British gentlemen then a coward.

The door gave way suddenly bursting almost off its hinges as a man came jumping into the room as well as the door.

"ARTHUR!" The voice screamed out with a blood curtailing scream that was more of a yell, which was more recognisable but Arthur was still in utter shock, he yelled back at the other person pointing the knife directly at his left hand, with force he jabbed it into the skin making a long and thin incision on his forearm, not deep enough to be fatal but just enough to get the message, the other man stepped back in pain holding his other hand over the cut in defence. Then it hit Arthur, he recognised the face, those baby blue's that were now filled with pain.

"Ow! What the fuck Arthur?!" Alfred roared out as he placed more pressure on his arm. Alfred stood there wondering what the hell had gotten into Arthur; he told him he'd be back in the morning. Maybe he forgot, slightly putting the pain aside, he began to inspect Arthur's body. He looked like a down right mess, scruffy blonde hair, bangs now covering his beautiful green eyes that looked sleep deprived and his skin looking paler than usual, even his bushy eyebrows seemed to lose their puffiness, for this Alfred was sort of grateful but he did love those caterpillar eyebrows that seemed to extenuate the Brit. But the thing that caught Alfred off guard was that Arthur was shirtless, his bare skinny chest showing almost giving him the sense to lunge forward and passionately kiss him all over but it wasn't the time, and he had just been able to supress the urge to lick his lips in anticipation.

"Oh dear god, Alfred! I am so sorry, oh bloody hell, let me get you a bandage!" said Arthur in a state of panic, he really didn't mean to he was caught in the moment "Here just sit on my bed and I'll be right back." Arthur hurried to the bathroom as he got there he was franticly looking through drawers and cupboards desperately trying to find some bandages as he dug around in each draw messing it from its usual neat and organised position, now soap packages were lying on top of each other crooked as well as a toothbrush that had been sent straight into the shaving cream which Arthur opened earlier thinking it was toothpaste before forgetting to close the lid. He had finally found the right cupboard and took out a film of cotton wrapped up in a neat rolled up package along with a pair of scissors and a bundle of clean white bandages, he knew he had needed alcohol in order for it to be sterile (who knows where that letter knife has been) so he quickly ran down the stairs two steps at a time not wanting to make the impatient American wait any longer then he needed.

He jumped up over the bar and slid on the rather slippery wooden bench top to get to the other side and open the cabinet; he ducked down to the cabinet and reached his hand in gently shuffling bottles around to find a suitable type, "Ah this should do." He said as he pulled out the 70% alcohol bottle from the bottom left corner, never really used for drinking but always came in handy when some drunken idiot would cut himself on a glass cup leaving Arthur with two problems he did not wish to attend to 1. A customer now turned patient and 2. Having to buy a new glass, the last one concerned him the most.

As he got the bottle he jumped over the bar top and grabbed the other materials which had been already placed on the bar top and scrambled up the stairs to his room, almost tripping over the last step of the stairs. He made his way to the bedroom to find Alfred sitting on the edge of the bed holding his hand tightly but not enough to make it loose blood flow to turn purple.

Arthur shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed, kneeling down in front of Alfred he placed his knees down onto the floor and tried to position himself comfortably below the boggled and pain-inflicted American. Arthur moved his hand up to the American who was extremely hesitant and shy at first, he wouldn't budge not moving his hand once, "Come on, poppet, if you don't move your hand I can't help you." Arthur soothed the jumpy American just enough for him to open up his hand to the Brit.

"Poppet?" Alfred asked in curiosity. Did Arthur really just flirt with me? He wondered, while Arthur paid no attention to the rhetorical question. Arthur paid no mind to the question; he just saw it as a rhetorical question that needn't be answered.

The Brit inspected the hand; he gave a slight sigh, which meant he would have to use the alcohol after all, for he really didn't want to hurt the poor man than he had already done. He gently twisted the hand, pressing his thumbs lightly on the skin receiving a slight hiss in pain from Alfred.

Alfred braced himself as Arthur began to pour some of the Alcohol onto a clean cotton bud, Arthurs hands tenderly glided his hand over the wound, sending a shudder up Alfred's spine as the sensation was so innocently alluring.

"Now this is going to hurt, but don't worry it will be over soon." Arthur said as the only reply from Alfred was a small grunt of approval. As the tender feeling was replaced with a sharp and stringing pain Alfred looked down to see that Arthur was applying the cotton bud to his hand, he held back the urge to yell out in pain, he really had no tolerance for pain one little bit.

"Why did you come in my house?" Arthur asked, desperately wanting to know why the American was in his house, after all he did just waltz on in here and with that warm welcoming he gave him he was sure that Alfred wouldn't come back.

"Why the fuck did you stab me?! It's not like you don't know me! Besides I said I'd come at 11 and I thought it was awfully nice of you to open the door for me." Alfred retorted back at the Brit, slightly annoyed at Arthur, slightly? No he was furious, what in god's name got into him? He stabbed Alfred with a letter knife?

A long sigh escaped Arthur as he began to wrap the bandage around the arm ignoring the impending question from the American; he slowly enveloped the bandage around the hand gentle but with a small amount of gripping force so that it would be tight enough to hold. He cut the end of the fabric that frayed at the snip of the scissors. Happy with his work he stood up and sauntered over to the desk opening the drawer with a large tug as it was slightly ajar and placed the pair of scissors into the drawer.

He closed the drawer and walked back to the bed, he sat down beside Alfred as the bed evened out in weight, not by much as the slender man sat down on the bed, still saying nothing. He looked up to the eyes of the skies that were filled with a childlike temper that literally brought a smile to the Brits face, he was thankful to be able to hold back his giggles as the man looked anything but giddy.

Deciding it was time to give poor Alfred an explanation Arthur swivelled his body so that he was directly facing Alfred as Sapphire and Emerald clashed against one another, one's showed resentment the other showed a strange apologetic compassion. Arthur cleared his throat and leaned in slightly against the American, "I must apologize Alfred, my actions were indeed quite rash, and I swear I didn't mean to stab you." He chuckled the slightest "I thought you were a safecracker or something."

Alfred looked rather perplexed. As he started blankly into Arthurs emerald eyes, dazed and confused

"A burglar as you yanks' would say." Arthur said clarifying the English slang, wait English slang, no that's the proper word, those bloody Americans' and there strange English, it is an utter outrage to see them dropping their u's and adding unnecessary z's everywhere, they have abolished the English language.

"I told you I'd be coming! Jeez man, I didn't know you limeys could get so drunk! But dude I gotta hand it to you, you can sing the British national anthem any day, your singing was beautiful!"

Arthurs face was now dusted pink, as quickly as the complement sinked into his system it quickly shot back out, "Gotta is not a word, it's got to, I'd suggest you'd buy a dictionary for your birthday or your next visit to the bookshop." Arthur said trying to change the subject "Doubt he's ever read a book in his life." He mumbled under his breath, thankfully quiet enough for Alfred to miss, so the American his deaf after all…

"Well the main reason I came here, before you stabbed me was to take you out. Y- you know not like a date or anything, but uh a friendly date…no that's not what I meant!" Alfred stuttered out awkwardly leaving both the American and the Brit standing there in embarrassment. Alfred didn't mean for it to come across that way, Shit, Alfred to be honest he wasn't yet sure if Arthur swung the bat that way, if you catch his drift.

"So a guy's night out in retrospect?" Arthur undermined the last sentence, trying his hardest to push back the arising crimson red blush in his cheeks, that plan failed, but thankfully his cheeks were already red from him scrubbing practically the first layer of skin as well as his dead skin as well.

Alfred shifted his position on the bed so he was slightly slouching as he had calmed down and his previously tensed muscles had relaxed. He looked directly into the eyes of Arthur, as they infused together Emerald green and Sapphire Blue, the perfect combination. Alfred quickly waved his eyes away from Arthurs and let his beady eyes wonder around the room, looking for anything that was the least bit interesting, but most importantly…distracting.

"Yeah! That's it! Thanks artie." Alfred said as he looked across the room to the desk which had a photograph of a little boy, almost similar to Arthur, those same caterpillar eyebrows which were slightly smaller and less bushy but still distinguishing recognisable, he was wearing a light blue sweater with a sailors hat over his hair, light blood and spiky just like Arthurs, Alfred could have sworn they could have passed for twins except for the bold blue eyes were the main focal point in the photograph, they were blue, blue as the ocean, filled with life and joy along with a large smile that stretched out from ear to ear, slight dimples imprinted onto his cheeks. Behind the boy was Arthur, pulling a half-hearted smile as he almost looked nauseous, he guessed Arthur doesn't the sea much seeing as they were on a boat, Alfred couldn't figure out which one, but the ships structure looked oddly familiar…

"Refrain from calling me that if you will, Alfie…" Alfred's attention was shot back at Arthur who had moved so he was standing in front of Alfred, arms crossed and a blunt expression on his porcelain skinned face, green eyes drilled into Alfred's. The use of that name Alfie sent a bubble of anger against the Brit, for it brought back sharp and painful memories that clung to his heart.

"Hey! Only Matt can call me that! And I can call you whatever I want!" Alfred huffed; Arthur thought it was absolutely adorable how he blew off some steam in such a childish manner, he was like a 5 year old who was told they couldn't go outside to play because it was raining, in his head he gave a slight chuckle while outside he remained tame and expressionless, an gave a long and relieved sigh as he brought his attention to the American who was deemed in his eyes as…rebellious teenager.

"Whatever, the main thing that is on my mind is where are we going specifically on this guy's day out?" Arthur repeated the question rather uneasy, with his fingers quoting over the words 'guys' day out'.

"Well you see I kinda have this thing where I have to go and write what happened at baseball and seeing as I have a plus one over all my hard work…" Arthur raised an eyebrow "Well, um I was um you know wondering if you know you'd like to come, I asked you last night and you said yes, but I am pretty sure you were too pissed to give a proper answer, so I decided to come and ask you again today." Alfred said as his hands were slightly shaking, he was thankful Arthur didn't notice his hands nor his whole body practically wobbling and melting into goo.

"I suppose it's all right seeing as I have nothing better to do today."

"Awesome! But uh you might wanna get dressed first…" Alfred trailed off as he let his eyes wonder over Arthur's bare chest. Arthur hadn't realised he was half naked, with that he grabbed the pillow from his bed and started whacking it over the American urging him to leave the room, he did and Arthur slammed the door behind him.

Alfred gave a slight sigh and trudged down the stairs with a slight mope on his face, how he wanted to dress the Brit himself, sliding each arm into the shirt, and slowly buttoning up, of course leaving the top button undone to leave a little sneak peak to the Brits neckline.

Arthur growled as he shut the door behind him, not only was he absolutely mortified beyond his limits but he was also regretting say yes to the impending request. Arthur walked over to the trunk sitting in front of his bed, proudly show casing a worn and rustic union jack on the top of the trunk, he clipped the trunks locks open and reached into the chest to grab out a few casual clothes that would somewhat match the Americans formality, no matter how informal and lack of etiquette the yank had.

Arthur pulled out a white dress shirt along with matching black suspenders, along with a pair of dark navy almost black slacks, he picked out a pair of grey socks that went up to his ankles to go with his dress shoes, his shoes were always at the door of the pub no matter if it was business hour or not, he always had them there at that was where they permanently remained.

He placed the clothes on his bed before he slipped out of his pants, standing there in nothing but his boxers as the air was damp and cold sending up a more vibrant shiver up his body then before when he was only shirtless. He laced his hands over the scars and burns over his legs, almost wincing at the touch. Forgetting immediately over the scars he quickened his pace not wanting to make the impatient yank wait any more than he needed. In a rush he pulled on the garments that were already set out on the bed and began to run out the door just before he got to the staircase he began to slow down his pace and walk down the stairs in an orderly and calm fashion.

Once he got to the bottom step his eyes widened in surprise and amusement, there Alfred was spinning on the bar stool chair looking so dizzy and disoriented it was as if he was going to vomit. At the sight of Arthur Alfred jumped off the seat and dashed over to Arthur with a notebook in hand and a pen behind his ear and fedora, the same one from the previous night.

"C'mon slow poke! We are gonna be late! Plus I'm starving!" Alfred's blue eyes shining bright with anticipation and impatience as he looked up to the Brit with a lazy smile on his face that seemed so sweet and caring.

"Yeah, yeah just give me a minute." Arthur said as he bent down at a crouching position to slid into his dress shoes at the front door, as he stood up Alfred ran up to him held him by the wrist and began to run out of the pub and onto the streets giving Arthur a fraction of a second to lock the door.

* * *

Later Alfred and Arthur were out on the street walking towards the stadium, Alfred's hand still clinging to Arthur's wrist as people on the streets gave odd and displeased looks at the pair. Arthur was now holding the brown leather notebook while Alfred's other hand possessed a famous New York hot dog that was drenched in mustard, cheese and tomato sauce or ketchup as the yanks say.

As the stadium approached and could be vaguely seen, the time hit 12 o'clock as Arthur looked down onto his watch; Alfred had told him that the game didn't start until 12:30 so they were in no rush. This was to be Arthur's first baseball game, he never was interested in American sports, he did try American football before he was sent to the E.R with a broken collar bone from an overly muscly man/ boy hybrid who was jacked up on steroids. So Arthur stayed far away from sports ever since, all except for chess as he saw it was a sport of the gentleman. Just before he could think more about the game, Alfred grabbed his attention by tugging his arm with more force than he had displayed earlier.

"What? You git, that hurt." Arthur said as he snatched his hand away from Alfred's rubbing it as he realised it was beat red and had traces of sweat on it. He moved his gaze from his wrist to Alfred's eyes.

"Look I'm sorry, but hey it can't be more painful than this morning bes—" Alfred said as he looked rather annoyed that Arthur had let go of his wrist, he gave a pout that Arthur didn't notice.

"I already told you it was a bloody accident! So can you please just drop it?!" Arthur said in defence putting his hands up in a light hearted gesture of peace, he had no time to argue over something so pointless so he decided to let it go.

"Jeez, calm down I was only going to tell you that we are here."

As soon as Alfred said that, Arthurs eyes widened and his mouth gaped in awe. What seemed like the whole of Manhattan was there all packed up and crowding into the stadium. He saw excided little children running ahead of their parents as they struggled to keep up with the fast paced children who were holding American flags and flags of either the Yankees and the Red Soxs, mostly Yankees flags could be seen though.

Arthur and Alfred were escorted into a specific area of the stadium which was already filled news reporters and photographers as they eagerly awaited for the game to commence, Arthur just thought they were another pathetic group of people who went around causing shameless scandals about celebrities, sportsters and whatever and whoever else were considered famous. At first Arthur thought Alfred was one of them, making money off false reports of people, but somehow Arthur could tell Alfred was different, that cheesy American smile never showed any signs of deception and was as true as he could be. If only Arthur knew…

Alfred was tense the whole time, he was well known in the criminal world, he was thankful to have an alias, 'blue eyes', not much of a name but enough to keep his identity a secret to the world, to everyone, his brother, mother and Arthur. Blue eyes was renowned in the newspaper, often seen to the world as a thief and a murder, which was a shamble seeing as Alfred has killed no one, it was often Rome who would do it and Alfred would take the blame, he was Rome's own personal puppet and he knew it.

Alfred and Arthur took their seats before Alfred sprinted off to go and get some food at the concession stand, Arthur merely rolled his eyes and waited for the players to fill in onto the field from. Arthur folded his legs and gave a deep sigh wishing that he brought a book or anything, so he wouldn't be bored out of his brains waiting to watch a game he knew nothing about.

Meanwhile as Alfred walked off away from the unaware and clueless Arthur, Alfred had much darker deeds to do then a simple game of baseball. He was to meet someone in the men's bathroom from orders of Rome, to receive a package as he would like to call it.

As Alfred walked into the bathroom the horrid odour immediately hit his nose, it smelled of soap mixed in with urine, the soap lavender soap blocked out majority of the urine, but somehow it had mixed into it creating nuclear bomb of smell.

He walked up to the sink to wash his face, he turned on the faucet allowing water to come onto his hands and create a puddle in his cupped hands, splashing the water onto his face as it left small droplets covering his face and one on his nose that was hanging of the edge of the nose tip.

A man walked into the bathroom locking the door behind him, to ensure no one would disturb them. His face was covered by the grey fedora that was now covering his eyes, he lifted the hat up so Alfred could get a full view of the man, he had piercing green eyes, not that emerald colour of Arthurs that he loved, no these were more of a pale green almost drained of colour vibrancy. His hair was a brown mess with his bangs pushed in front of his face and had dead ends at each tip of hair. His eyes were half lidded and he looked rather sleepy as if he had just woken up, he gave a small yawn as he approached Alfred.

"Ya got the stuff?" Alfred said as he flipped out his blazer to reveal a hidden pocket, inside this hidden pocket was his gun, the metal shinned against the sun roof, shooting off into the other persons eyes, he covered his hands over his eyes and stepped forward to get out of the way.

"Yes, yes I do" He said in a distinguishable Greek accent as he pulled out a small bag which was filled with what appeared to be lead pencils.

"What the fuck is this shit? I am sure we asked for crack not pencils! Black Cat, you really fucked it up this time, do you want me to kill you?" Alfred threated the poor Greek as he shouted directly in his face, the shout was loud but not loud enough for anyone outside to be able to hear.

"Our latest trick, blue eyes, see take a look." The man said as he pulled out one pencil, Alfred's face didn't change still filled with disappointment and still clutching onto the gun to make a point. He pulled out the pencil and reached into his back pocket for what looked like a small pocket knife, he began to scrape the edge of the pencil, what caught Alfred off guard was instead of a pile of pencil shavings in his hand there was a white powdery substance. He brought his hand close to Alfred's face and blew, just as the powder blew into contact with his face Alfred covered his nose and mouth to ensure he wouldn't get high beyond his expectations, he hated dealing with drugs, but sometimes it's just inevitable.

"I don't care about, your new trick, just fork over the crack." Alfred threated the Greek, who didn't look fazed by it, Alfred noticed this and he pulled out the gun out from his blazer as the fabric made a _swoosh _sound as the gun brushed the fabric. The Greek stood back before he pulled out his own gun, it was a German made M1922 Pistol with a barrel slightly smaller than Alfred's own but it still looked as menacing.

"Cash if you will." The Greek shot back motioning his gun towards the American, Alfred held his ground but complied. He dug into the other pocket of his blazer forcing out a large sum of money, so large that Alfred couldn't count how many 100's were in the rolled up package of money.

The Greek snatched the money out of Alfred's hands before he pushed the pencils into his chest; the Greek gave a slight grin at the American before he swung his hand to the American's face. It was a quick and unannounced attack the American had no time to dodge, coping it fast and face first as the impact nearly shattered and broke his nose, he flew backwards on to the tile floor that was ridden with dust, dirt and strips of toilet paper rolls, he lent back on his hands so that they would break his fall thankfully it did. He was disoriented for a few moments to only see the Greek had already left, another man walked into the bathroom looking rather confused as to why he was on the floor, paying no attention to it he pushed himself up from the floor and brushed himself off, he looked into the mirror to see that his right check was bright red and thankfully not throbbing, he left the bathroom with a slouched back and a hand rubbing his other check to give the impression that he is just hot and flustered.

Alfred then left to the concession stand to get some food, it looked rather suspicious for being gone for over half an hour, but Alfred payed no mind to it. He calm back to where Arthur was sitting still cross-legged and a pouting face that Alfred found so cute as well as his accent, god British accents were so fucking sexy and Arthur was even more, Alfred thought to himself as he put another fry that was covered in ketchup in his mouth. Arthur just rolled his eyes and tucked his feet in so Alfred could get through the tight squeeze to his chair.

Alfred plopped down next to Arthur and handed him a glass bottle of water out of pocket, Arthur nodded and mumbled a shy "thanks" as he placed the bottle beside his chair. He freed his hands by placing the large chips and wrapped up hamburger down on the floor beside him and then begun to pull out the coke from his other pocket, he felt as his member was literally suffering from frostbite from both bottles of cold drink was now relieved.

"Are you going to tell me the rules?" Arthur asked as the game began to kick off as players ran onto the field wearing their white and blue stripped uniforms and baseball caps and the other blue and red stripped uniforms the colours seemed to clash against each other giving off the feeling of rivalry between the two teams.

"Sure thing, Artie, I said I would!" Alfred said cheerily as Arthur began to grumble over the nickname Artie, before Arthur could correct him again of the nickname Alfred began explaining the game. "Ok so obviously there are two teams and each team has 9 players and the main goal is to score more runs than the other team and you get this by running one full circuit of the diamond. Got it so far?"

"Hm, I guess." Arthur said looking rather bewildered by the amount of information, He thought how the game was too complex and decided to just sit there and nod to whatever Alfred said so he wouldn't disappoint the poor yank, who looked overly excited about his American past time sport.

"While the other teams pitcher, that's the person who throws the ball has to get as many people as he can a strike out! It's a pretty awesome sport! I know you'll love it!" Alfred hummed while all he received from Arthur was a pitiful groan of boredom mixed with frustration. How he knew that this was going to be a long day and he had already lost some profit seeing as he hadn't opened his bar yet, he gave a long sigh as he slouched back into the uncomfortable wooden bench that seemed to be missing a headrest as he fell back onto another person's leg, he mouthed a sorry then sat up right but still holding a slouch.

"Oh look they're starting! Yes, Yankees first pitch first, quick hand me my notebook!" Alfred said as he pulled the pen out from his ear and Arthur handed over the tattered leather notebook, immediately Alfred starting jotting down anything interesting about the sport, Arthur couldn't be bothered to look up at the sport he just kept looking down at Alfred who would make a spelling mistake every fifth word, Arthur gave an amused light hearted chuckle when Alfred scribbled out the word each time he had made a solecism error.

Arthur hated to admit it but he looked so damn cute just sitting there writing down anything juicy as the newspapers would say, with his tongue sticking out to one side of his lips to show his full dedication and concentration.

Alfred only stopped writing when each inning ended, each time he placed his notebook in his lap and slid his pen back into the curve of his ear, Arthur felt as his hand suddenly became warmer, it was a comfortable feeling that the innocent sign of affection gave off leaving him with tingles running up his entire body as Alfred would inch his warm tanned hand closer to the cold pale of Arthur's. Each time he did this a deep red blush escaped from the Brit's pale cheeks which Alfred noticed and gave a small smile at the corners of his lip which only made the blush worsen for Arthur, his cheeks almost turning crimson.

At the 8th inning Alfred's hand was literally on top of Arthur's, Arthur was too stunned to move. He quite liked the warm feeling and the soothing aura the American sent off that sent away any feeling of despair and gave solace, somehow it just felt odd, but no matter how strange it felt he never flinched, he just sat there frozen in ice the only movement in his entire body was the dusting of cheeks and the light scunge of nose, not in disgust but in embarrassment which Alfred found so fucking adorable, the way he sat there looking so on edge able to move or practically do anything.

Alfred wasn't even sure if he could move as if was stuck in his own hypnotic trance which Arthur found oddly alluring and was caught in it like a salmon in the river against a menacing bear only that Alfred wasn't as terrifying he was gentle, kind and caring all the qualities anyone would love to have. Arthur gave a frown that had a twinge of jealousy, he saw that Alfred had all the things that Arthur could only dream of possessing, but he didn't loathe in it which Arthur saw as a sign that he was a true honest gentleman.

By the end of the game Alfred was still hungry, it amazed Arthur of how much of an appetite the American had, but Arthur really mind whatever made Alfred happy that wasn't the least bit stupid was fine by him. So they decided to go to a local deli after the game, Arthur was absolutely starving for he didn't have breakfast and he didn't want to have any food at the game, for he saw it was nothing but fatty calories, peanuts, chips*, burgers, cracker jacks, popcorn, pops* and alcohol, cheap at that, it wasn't the good kind either that Arthur sold at his pub, no it was the cheap beer you'd buy that tasted absolutely ferial.

* * *

As they left the stadium to walk down to find a local deli Alfred was happy as ever, the Yankees won to no surprise seeing as Alfred had mentioned over a million times that they were having the best winning streak ever, 5, Arthur rolled his eyes at that, seriously Manchester united has had better streaks than that! Most Red Sox fans had left crestfallen, but that only left Alfred relishing in their victory, it was fine at first but after a while it started to tick Arthur off.

Alfred and Arthur were now walking down the narrow street, Alfred holding his notebook in one hand and the other kept brushing against Arthurs as they walked side by side at a very close distance, it didn't bother either of them it somehow felt right, but a impending thought kept creeping back into Alfred's mind.

_Will Arthur think I'm is a monster, just another hired gun to kill someone's life and deal in crime. I was lucky that Arthur didn't think anything of the pencils, I just told him that they were spare if my pen ran out of ink which Arthur believed without a second thought, or did he know? Did he know but he was hiding it so he could book me into the police? _

Arthur reassured him of his thoughts subconsciously by rubbing up against Alfred's side, and even Arthur didn't know if that was intentional or not. But it brought smiles to both faces at that Alfred grabbed Arthurs wrist and began running down the street and turning a rather sharp corner that almost had Arthur grazing against the wall.

They finally reached the deli, they looked up at the sign 'Hungarian delight' that name sounded so familiar to Alfred.

Alfred opened the door first receiving a jingle from the door as a bell slammed back into the door as they walked in altering the shop owner. The pleasant smell of freshly dried meat, spices and cheese filled the air. The deli was very clean looking as everything in it seemed to shine with a gleam of light at each object, the floor was black and white tiled and the wallpaper on the walls were a plain creamy beige, there were a few tables with chairs that looked fairly new or just well maintained. At the back of the deli was the delicatessen's counter, it had a range of different cheeses and dried meat from salami to wurst, from Parmesan to Romano cheese, all was there.

As the pair approached the counter a cherry young lady popped up from the back room, she had a large smile on her face as she twiddled with the long brown locks of her hair. She was wearing a beautiful pale green dress that went just above her knees she wore a petticoat underneath as you could see bits of frilly fabric underneath the dress, she wore a white apron over the top of the dress that had letters 'E H' stitched on in Red and Green string at the bottom corner of her apron. Her hair was let loose long and flowing but half of it was tied up in a white fabric bandanna that was knotted at the back.

"Hey guys, what can I get ya?!" She said as she looked at Arthur, but her eye contact moved to Alfred as she stepped back in surprise. "Alfred? I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Eliza? Yeah me too it's great to see you too! Um this is my friend Arthur." Alfred said gesturing to Arthur who was standing slightly behind Alfred, at that Alfred pushed Arthur forward so he was in line with him if not ahead of him.

"Pleasure to meet you, Elizaveta." Arthur said as he looked to the name tag on her apron, her cheeks rose-red in flattery as she stumbled forward.

"Don't be so formal, now what can I get you boys?" She motioned to the food in the cabinet, Alfred's eyes widened almost becoming as large as saucers as he scanned each and every item behind the counter droll sprawling from his lips. Arthur meanwhile didn't know half of the food, he looked for anything that he'd eaten before when his eyes focused on a few small sticks of salami that were only the size of a pencil, just right.

"Just a couple of sticks of salami, you want anything Artie?" God how Alfred loved saying that nickname for it rifled up the Brit which made his cheeks go red as a tomato in a mix of embarrassment and anger, but the thing he loved about the name was how it could just roll of the tongue ever so gracefully without any mispronunciation, no it was a perfect nickname for a perfect man.

"It's Arthur..." Arthur muttered under his breath that wasn't quite inaudible enough for Alfred to miss, a small hiss could be heard from Alfred's direction but Arthur paid no mind to it. "I'll have the same thank you Eliza."

With that Elizaveta rushed down to the cabinet and slid the door open, she placed some rubber gloves on her hands giving them a flick as she slid them onto her slender hands, she bent down to collect five pieces of salami then proceeded to wrap them up in butchers paper with a small red ribbon wrapped around the centre.

"There you boys are, with one on the house knowing your appetite Alfred…" She gave a wink directed at Alfred it was a friendly wink as far as Arthur could tell so he really didn't mind he thought it was rather sweet of her.

"Thanks Eliza, say hi to Roderich for me." Arthur gave a sigh of relief at that, well, now he knew that there was only a friendly connection between Alfred and Eliza, he gave a charming smile at her as he and Alfred turned around to walk to the door.

"I'll be sure to!" She yelled as Alfred and Arthur stepped out of the deli.

The pair continued walking down the street talking about anything it started from the game and practically ended in favourite pets, which of course for Arthur had to be a grey Scottish fold for it was his childhood cat for Alfred it was a golden retriever and Arthur gave a slight grimace at that, he hated dogs, well not all dogs but anything bigger than a corgi was trouble.

They approached the pub it looked the same as ever still old and desperately needing a renovation, but a part of Arthur could never really do it for he saw he would lose any remaining connection to his parents with a measly new touch of paint.

As the pub drew closer Alfred's frown grew he was sad to see the Brit go but he wouldn't mind if he could get a look of his perfectly rounded slender arse as he walked away into the doors of the pub.

Arthur slid the key into the door; it gave a loud click as the door creaked open. Arthur walked in before turning around to see Alfred leaning on the door frame with his hands crossed over and his blue eyes shining brighter than he had ever seen.

"I wanted to thank you for today, Alfred that was very generous of you…" He trailed off almost lost as he looked into his eyes; he leaned forward to the American without giving much thought as his heart seemed to take over his movements rather than his brain.

"It's uh no problem at all Artie, I'm glad you c-came, I re-re-really enjoyed you coming." Alfred stuttered rather nervously for he was going to do something which he hoped Arthur would enjoy.

"Not at all it was a good ideah—" Arthur stopped midsentence as Alfred leaned into Arthur, lips lightly touching over Arthurs, it wasn't very romantic or anything along those lines, how Arthur wanted to kiss back, wrap his hands around Alfred's nape and jump up onto him, as his hands would gently grasp Arthurs arse as he pushed their bodies into each other. Arthur just stood there frozen yet again, how he could feel the warm touch of Alfred's lips on his own still lips, he was too utterly stunned to make a move and he just stood there, wide eyes and his feet holding their ground.

Alfred was disappointed and almost heartbroken that Arthur didn't kiss back so he pulled away his lips away from Arthurs and pushed his body away as well. He took a few shuffling steps backwards towards the door and his face was filled with discontentment, but to his surprise Arthur stepped forward, he wrapped his hands over Alfred's shoulders linking them at the top midsection of his back and gave a fully passionate kiss that was filled with lust.

Alfred immediately kissed back moving his hands to the slender waist of Arthur, he wanted to firmly grasp Arthur's arse but he felt it was far too early for that. Feeling the hot wet kiss on his lips, he could tell Arthur wasn't a professional at it but it still didn't matter, he took a daring move and slipt his tongue in the roof of Arthur's mouth, he received a quiet moan from the Brit, but he complied slipping his own into Alfred's. Because of his inexperience it was a hot mess, teeth and tongue crashing into each other as both of them explored each other's mouths, it was exhilarating and exciting for both of them, an indescribable experience that Alfred simply couldn't put on paper, it was a desire that he had fulfilled. They both made sure there hands stayed where they were, how they both wanted to explore each other's bodies but both had little time to enjoy it.

Arthur was the first to pull away realising he needed air, he started into the American realising what he had done his cheeks flared red. _Dear God can he get any more fucking cute? _Alfred smiled at him and his blushing cheeks and he received a smile back. Arthur straightened himself out before he began to gently shoo the American out. Once on the street he gave a small peck to Alfred's cheek, finally receiving a blush from the American.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, poppet." Arthur said as he stared into those baby blue eyes, he could never forget nor want to. He slowly began to step back into the pub holding the door handle as he saw Alfred begin to step out further onto the street and further away from Arthur.

"You have my word, my dear English rose…" He gave the tip of his hat a flick before he turned around and walked down the street, the only disappointment he had was that he didn't get to see Arthur's tight ass or in this case grasp it, but he pushed it off, because he knew the Brit had seen his.

Arthur shut the door after Alfred had gotten half way down the street, as he closed it he slid down the door frame feeling light headed and love-struck he mumbled "English rose? Hm" Before he decided that he wasn't going to open up shop today, instead he was going to relax, he deserved it after all.

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**A/N There you have your hanky pankyness at the end! Hey my lovely readers how are you all going!? I'm doing well and I am so sorry for not posting this until now! But I worked really hard on this one!  
**

**Oh before I go so sorry, in England chips are fries and pop's are soda's sorry for the slang! But I'd like to keep this as British as possible!**

**Please favourite, follow and review! I really need the feedback!**

**Ta all Lk :3**


	4. The fall of Rome

Tea and Scone Alliance

American Guns and an English Rose.

22/02/14

:.:.:.:.:

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**A/N: This chapter contains violence, make out sessions, character death, drugs and out of character moments! I am sticking to a 5-7000 word stimulus, because its easier for me! I went over today but oh well! What does it matter?! I wanted to say that this chapter hurt for me to write because its just dark, end of story dark. But If you can get through and give me some feedback, I will get England to do a sexy dance for you! So please read on and I'll stop my rambling so see you at the bottom! :3**

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**Chapter 4: The fall of Rome**

Two long gruelling weeks passed since the baseball game, and while Arthur and Alfred have become more intimate with each other things on Alfred's side weren't looking too good.

Rome was becoming more obsessed with drug dealership, it somehow became his main tool of trade, Alfred couldn't stand it, it made him absolutely sick to his stomach. Each and every Friday he would go to a place, somewhere different each time at first it was the stadium and his latest was park central. It just didn't feel right while there were families enjoying their time, eating lunch with smiling children who filled the air with laugher; there was nothing for him to laugh at for he was there trafficking drugs from the shady Greek.

Alfred had had enough and how he oh so desperately wanted to confront Rome and tell him to stop, he could never bring himself up to do it, and what pained him more was that he continued to traffic drugs and Feli would never know, he hated lying especially to his best friend.

He needed a shoulder to cry on, where he could let all of his mixed emotions pour out of him and he would once again feel simplicity and serenity. At times he had almost felt the urge to put that damn gun to his head, looking back on the past he decided it was better worth to have shot himself then and there and gotten out of everyone's lives. But the one thing he couldn't die for was the guilt and despair he would leave Arthur with, he knew the Brit would blame himself for the suicide of his best friend, his lover and he knew it would eventually kill him from the inside out and for that he could never do it.

Alfred desperately wanted to tell Arthur who he really was, he was a member of the famous Vargas mafia family, who would traffic drugs and shoot people for the sake of the family. Meanwhile earning a new and confronting feeling of sickness, that's it, he was dead straight sick both mentally and physically. But what could he do, but bottle up all of his feelings which he knew the bottle would eventually crack like glass and pour out all the feelings in a rush of fast flowing water down a river stream that was on going and would only describe Alfred's tears…ongoing and long-lasting.

Alfred and Arthur had tried to make time to see each other. Each time they would see one another it would usually be late at night where both counterparts would be tired and lacking strength but still they had managed to muster up all their remaining energy that had not been worn away from the long and tiring day and spend the night, often lying on Arthur's bed. Staring into one another's eyes as they tenderly and lovingly made out on the bed, never going further than that for Arthur would squirm and yell at Alfred if he began to unbutton Arthur's pants. This always made Alfred curious to why he would behave this way, often he would ask only to be shunned by Arthur and with that he pushed it no further, he decided that Arthur would tell him when he was ready.

Alfred had always felt guilty that each time Arthur had asked to stay over at his place he would always deny it, he honestly was too afraid that Arthur would stumble upon something he shouldn't. He kept imagining Arthur would find his gun, that the gun would mentally stare him in the face as it dimmed that beautiful light of emerald-green eyes that he always wore with a witty smile, to see intern a black and empty abbess of hurt and pain, seeping through his eyes and directly drilling into Alfred's making his heart swell up in disgrace.

Arthur would nuzzle into Alfred's neck late at night when the two had gathered some time to see each other, hands intertwined with one another as they laid on the couch in front of Arthur's fireplace. Arthur's slender body lying comfortably on Alfred's muscly physic, often mumbling into his neck, inaudible for Alfred to decipher but still felt loving and benevolent. Alfred would tilt his head to grasp a glimpse those green eyes he oh so loved that were half-lidded for Arthur looked as if he was going to fall asleep as he gave a soft yawn into the neck of Alfred which sent warm breath over his neck which was both alluring and soothing to his troubles, in the cradling arms of Alfred, which Alfred didn't mind would. This was a usual night for the pair and they couldn't get enough of each moment that they had together.

Each time Arthur would move in his hands Alfred would move his hands through the golden blonde locks ever so slowly and affectionately, he could never imagine a world without Arthur for Arthur brought happiness to his dismally dark world, which he was happy to let in any time though the opening of the gates to his heart and mind would never be done. For he couldn't let Arthur know what he had done, he would hate to see Arthur's eyes fill up with shame resentment and would cast him out into the streets leaving him for dead and his heart-broken in two.

Alfred was going to Arthur's pub again for the 3rd time that week; it was a Sunday which was Alfred's absolute favourite day, for Arthur always closed up shop. The air was crisp and cold with the usual smell of petrol in the air that Alfred had come accustomed to ever since he moved to Manhattan. It wasn't too cold for autumn but Alfred still bundled up in a sweater and a scarf just to be sure, but of course still wearing the fedora that Arthur admitted to love.

As he walked down the street with a slouch in his posture and his hands firmly clutched in the sweater pockets as his hands received little warmth from the wool fabric of the sweater that was rather scratchy against his skin. He saw a couple, the woman not much older than he was, holding hands with the man as they walked down the street, with that Alfred gave a smile. He had always wanted to be able to do that with Arthur casually in public and no one would care but these times were dark and anything different was often looked down upon.

Arthur and Alfred's time together was usually short and sweat, but each moment was savoured, but he had to be oh so careful for he knew that if Arthur and he were to be caught no good would come out of it, they would be ridiculed, laughed at, teased and insulted, he had always had people in his life insult him call him queer and spit on him. But he had always fought back against it.

"It doesn't matter who you love as long as you care for each other, you can love whoever you want, man or woman, and it's all the same isn't it?" A teenage Alfred would often speak to the usual group of boys at his local high school. Often he would come home each day with a new bruise to add to his trophy case which was in this case, his body.

Alfred shook the memory out of his head as he finally reached the door of the pub. Before he could even knock he was abruptly yanked into the pub by small almost feminine hands, the hands were warm as he could almost feel them seeping through his sweater to touch his bare skin and send a pulsing feeling of warmth all over his body and back to the original spot. As he was pulled in he tapped the door behind him with his shoe, the door swung backwards with a loud and long creak before slamming shut and giving the lock a click as it closed.

Now the warm hands of Arthur he recognised moved up to his to his face gently cupping his cheeks, his warm hands felt vibrant and filled with life only to last transient before they moved behind his head gently grasping his hair and leaning forward, lips touching and gliding over one another. The taller blonde gave a suppressed and longing moan against the shorter blonde. Which only made the shorter blonde smile in satisfaction as he pulled away from the taller blonde to gaze into his serene blue eyes, as blue as the Atlantic itself that once would have separated them long ago. "Took you long enough, git." The shorter blonde chided playfully before pulling Alfred back into the kiss which Alfred complied to. Their kisses were never innocent and chaste, always filled with a hunger that seemed to burn into them each time they were apart, only to be fulfilled when they were back in each other's arms.

Alfred took this as his initiative to gain dominance in the kiss, grasping Arthur and pushing all of his weight forward, sending the Brit to tilt backwards on his heels receiving a small surprised moan, which only filled his lustful attitude, deepening the kiss before breaking it with a short breath only to jump back into the kiss. This time pushing in a little surprise that made Arthur sigh with elated pleasure. Arthur returned the favour sliding his own tongue into Alfred's as his hands only gripped the back of Alfred tighter, as well as Alfred clutching Arthur's waist desperately wanting to move his hands closer to the slender and fit arse of the Brit that Alfred found captivating.

They kissed for over 5 minutes only to stop when both had run out of breath, most of the time forgetting to breathe as they pulled back into it. They explored each other's mouths with excitement as the feeling of escapade filled each other's body wanting only to explore more and on Alfred's part more than the mouth.

As Alfred was surprised how Arthur had only gotten better at it in a short period of time. There were the occasional clashes of teeth, which Arthur would inwardly apologize by soothing rubbing small circles around Alfred's back that made Alfred mewl into the rhythm of the gentle massaging. Immediately forgiving Arthur for his adorable mistake, which Alfred deemed as a slight mistake easily forgiven. Providing the apologetic Brit with a smile that seemed to send tingles inside and out as he gave a deepened red blush at it. _Good lord, how more fucking adorable can he get?_

Before Alfred could go any further, Arthur slid away from his grasp earning a small frustrated groan from Alfred as Arthur walked over to the bar. With a sly smile on his lips as he turned his arse directly into Alfred's direction, receiving a shift in Alfred's position as his once hunched over shoulders, rotated into an ecstatic stance as well as his feet that were practically on the edge of his toes, his mouth gaping open as he looked like a high school teenage girl who had a crush who was absolutely terrible at suppressing it.

Arthur jumped on the bar top, ignoring the door and slid over the other side giving the cabinet a slight jolt as his feet touched the ground. He reached down into the cabinet and pulled out two spirit glasses and a bottle of bourbon, which was now their most memorable drink along with salami which was now their notable first meal together as strange as it was.

Alfred cocked his head as Arthur slid down the wooden bar top, receiving a cheeky chin from the Brit, he walked over to Alfred, bourbon and glasses in his right hand as he shifted the bottle ever so carefully and reached out his hand gesturing for Alfred to take it, of course he took it without hesitation.

Arthur lead him to the longue chair in front of the fireplace which Arthur had lit earlier that evening as the charcoal burnt wood crackled and released a fiery orange ember that sprayed outside of the firebox and onto the stone hearth. Arthur gently sat down on the couch as he rubbed the arms of the Victorian green and white couch, he gestured for Alfred to sit down beside him as he patted the soft cushion. Alfred complied but did so rather ungraceful as he plopped down next to Arthur almost causing the Brit to knock the bourbon out of his hand.

Arthur stared into the eyes of Alfred that contrasted against the dim glow of the lanterns, before moving his head into the crock of Alfred's neck gently nuzzling against the taller blonde who was elated and sexually attentive as Alfred received a slight uncomfortable tightness in his slacks, Alfred blushed at this and simultaneously so did Arthur as he realised his leg was lying comfortably on Alfred. Feeling flustered as his cheeks lit up with a red cinder blush, he quickly attempted to move his leg. As his leg sided over Alfred's leg back to his side, Alfred grabbed it ever so gently along with his other leg and shifted the Brits body so that he his half sitting on him, which Alfred didn't mind at the adjustment of added weight on his thighs, he found it comfortably welcoming.

Arthur didn't budge in turn he sat there frozen, unable to move as if Alfred's presence was literally causing him to lose any sensation of feeling in his entire body, it felt sickly, but sickly bewitching . Finally enabling his body to thaw he allowed his hand to flutter over to the bottle of bourbon which he had put down previously on the wooden coffee table that sat before the longue. It was pristine clean as Arthur had only just recently scrubbed the table down with soap lathering up all the grim and dirt hidden beneath the wood. His fingers laced the cap, ghosting at the touch before he twisted the bottle cap receiving a _pop_ mixed in with the jingle of glass that rattled against the metal cap.

Arthur then began to pour the ginger coloured liquid into the two glasses; the bourbon gave a sloshing noise as it came in contact with the glass. He filled one glass higher than the over just to be sure that he wouldn't end drunk as an Irishmen on St Patrick's Day. He gave a genuine smile as he handed the glass over to Alfred, immediately Alfred grabbed for the bourbon, clutching it tightly in his hand to ensure it wouldn't spill and make a mess. For he knew how much Arthur hated mess, it was almost like a crazed obsession the Brit had but Alfred found it cute and still wondered what Arthur would think if he saw his house. Something along the lines "It's a good awful mess and bloody hell how did you manage to get peanut butter on the ceiling?" For that Alfred could never really explain for he himself didn't even know.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked as he positioned himself back to Alfred's crook, a warm breath tickled over Alfred's skin as he requested attention for the highly inattentive American.

"Hm? Yeah?" Alfred said dazed at the feeling of Arthur resting on top of him.

"I was um wondering, if I would ever receive the pleasure of going to your house? I mean I honestly have no idea what to expect and it's not I don't expect that you own anything fancy, that is my least concern really I mean of course I wouldn't care but oh god I am rambling now aren't I oh bollocks I—" Arthur rambled on, half of which Alfred's mind didn't register as he gave a confused look and tilted his head so he could get a better look at Arthurs messy blonde hair that was standing up due to the friction of the couch.

Alfred silenced the Brit as he gave a long sigh, placing down the bourbon on the wooden coffee table and let his hand linger its way up to Arthurs golden blonde locks, he let his fingers thread through his hair ever so gently, "Arthur, I really do want you to see my house, but uh I just don't think you'd be that impressed besides I mean I like seeing you like this. You know at your pub and besides it's not like you can leave you have a business to run, ya know?" Alfred reasoned with Arthur, he really didn't want Arthur to go to his house but he knew it was inevitable.

"Bloody Hell Alfred, are you hiding something from me because whatever it is you can tell me, as I can tell you!" Arthur snapped as he moved from the crook of Alfred's neck and was now sitting beside him; body turned directly at him with his arms crossed over his chest and his forest green eyes filled with a fiery ember almost as bright as the fireplace itself with a tint of green to it. Arthur was sick and tired of unable to see Alfred's home, he felt like he had exploited everything that he had owned (almost everything) and Alfred had done so little, _surely it can't be that bad, _he wondered.

Alfred reached up and grabbed one of Arthur's hands that were still pressed tightly against his chest; he moved it with ease seeing how feeble he was for his age, with a small struggle he was able to place it onto his thigh before he positioned his own hand on top of Arthur's, lacing their fingers together while Arthur sat there beet red, not the usual embarrassed red that Alfred found oh so adorable, it was the fuming red that sent Alfred tingling, not a good tingling either the kind that send all your senses haywire unknowing what was to occur next, knowing Arthur he can go from fight to fuck in a split second.

"Arthur…I want you to come over, trust me I do but I'm not ready for you to—" Alfred soothed Arthur but this plan backfired with a spark when Arthur practically ripped his hands away from Alfred pushing them into his lap as he leant forward and cut Alfred off.

"When will you be? Git, I've opened myself all the way up to you, Why can't you do the same!?" Arthur was on the verge of tears as he could feel his eyes water up and his vision became watery and unclear, he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt as he retorted back at Alfred. For this statement was only half true, only time could tell if he was ready to tell Alfred about his heart sinking past and fully open himself to be read like a book, even though he could always gather that Alfred had never read anything more than a picture book, he gave a slight smirk at this in his mind while outside he was bawling.

Alfred gently shoved the instable Brit closer to him tenderly wrapping his arms around him as he looked like he was to break down at any minute. Arthur mentally rejected the poignant form of affection he melded into the embrace. Losing all composure he began to cry onto Alfred's shoulder and Alfred in turn could only give a comforting smile as he moved his hand up to Arthur's hair to gently brush through the messy locks of hair.

"When I'm ready Artie, I promise…" Alfred wiped away the dried tears from Arthur's cheeks just as they began to drip down his porcelain almost alabaster skin. At the touch Arthur's cheeks reddened slightly and he gave a wry smile, which made Alfred's grin only widen.

As Arthur and Alfred laid comfortably against one another, there was no sound from the street outside the was no noise besides the steady beating of their hearts beating unison that reverberated around the room in a melodic tune. Alfred gave a long and fatigued yawn and interrupted the peaceful melody; Arthur looked up to Alfred through half lidded eyes for he was tired as well and gave a hearty smile that Alfred hadn't seen the entire evening, which made Alfred scream in his head enthusiastically at the smile, he always loved making Arthur smile even though it was less frequent then he wanted it to be.

Alfred realised that Arthur had fallen asleep in his arms as his body went limp and all he could hear was the deep and relaxed exhales and inhales from Arthur as his chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern. Not long after Alfred slipped into the world of subconsciousness with Arthur still lying at his side as he held onto him like he was a teddy bear, _teddy bear? Kuma-j-jiro…Mattie?_ He wondered before he went off to sleep, trying his hardest to have a dream that wouldn't end up with him and a pulsing erection at 5 o'clock in the morning with Arthur shifting due to the conformable feeling accentuating from Alfred's slacks. Now the only sound besides the small breathing mixed in with the loud snores from Alfred was the crackling of wood of the fireplace that still remained lit.

Alfred awoke first the next morning despite being the last to go to bed. The fire had long since burnt out and all that remained in the fire box were lifeless burnt black chunks of lumber. As he sat up Arthur began to stir below him, he didn't want to wake the Brit who looked so sleep deprived even with the good amount of sleep he had gotten. Alfred discussed ways with himself on how to push off Arthur without waking him. He had finally came up with a way to be able to do it, gently placing his hands on each side of his head, as he sipped out of Arthurs grasp he gently placed the Brit's head down onto the plump couch. Arthur shivered as the warmth Alfred provided suddenly slipped away at the movement.

As much as Alfred wanted to stay, gently cradling Arthur in his hands as Arthur melted into his strong as Arthur mewled at the touch he couldn't. He had another meeting with Rome and Lovino and the thing that startled him the most was how frequent they were becoming. They would only usually happen once a month but know they have been happening once a week, and it really ticked off Alfred for he really hated meetings but who could blame him, the topics were always dreadful always discussing which family owed them money and who they owed money in return, and the drugs, the drugs that sent Alfred on edge. He really couldn't take it, for he was receiving grey hair over the stress as he felt his wheat blonde hair slowly turn into a lifeless grey, he was more stressed then a bank robber when he was just seconds from being caught and in this case Alfred did feel like a criminal. Just as guilty.

Alfred went to the door to put on his shoes that Arthur had scolded him to take off the night before, slipping them onto each foot. He looked back to the sleeping Brit who had now found the pillow that had been kicked off the couch and had lain on the floor tilting backwards against the frame as it was now clutched in his hands as a leverage of comfort. Alfred smiled at this, even though he couldn't stay he wanted to at least say good bye somehow. He grabbed the napkin that Arthur had always kept behind the bar table and pull out the pen from his pocket, giving it a click as he pressed down onto the cap.

He wrote in his best English even though Arthur would most likely ridicule him for his language the next time that he saw him. Smiling at the napkin he walked over to the wooden coffee table setting it down next to the half empty bottle of bourbon which Arthur would surely notice when he wakes up. Leaning forward to the sleeping body he brushed a few strands of hair out of his hands and placed a small chaste kiss on Arthur's head, which had somehow become a custom of his. Before slipping out the door shutting it as quiet as he could, knowing the stupid door would often creak giving of the sound of a large group of mouses squeaking in unison.

Though he tried to be as quiet as he could the door still gave off that annoying creak as he left to walk down the street, he gave a sigh knowing that would have defiantly woken Arthur. Unknown to him Arthur had been awoke, half of the time only really stirring when Alfred had placed the soft chaste almost vestal kiss on his forehead. He rubbed his back as he sat up, not that he didn't enjoy sleeping in the strong arms of Alfred it really didn't do his back any favours as it gave a crack as he lifted up his body to sit up, chucking the pillow somewhere he didn't register for he would find it later.

As his eyes began to adjust he noticed a small piece of paper next to the bottle of bourbon. No wait not paper, serviette. He placed the paper between both of his hands as they both took a corner of the serviette. He read down the serviette giving a smile mixed in with a blush.

_My Sweet English Rose_

_I am sorry to depart so early even without telling you,_

_But I thought I would leave you this in my bestest English_

_For you. I miss you already, I will promise to see you again_

_Later tonight for that matter of fact, it will be swell :)_

_Love always, the hero of the day, Alfred F. Jones_

_Bollocks to best of English_, Arthurthought as he folded the napkin in half still holding a wide smile on his lips which was a rare occasion for the often stern and expressionless Brit. He walked up the stairs faster than usual, turning the corner at the top of the stairs he walked into his bedroom that smelled heavily of musk. Sauntering over to the desk pulling out one drawer and placing the napkin over a ticket that opened another wound that he had mended far too many times to comprehend and each time he saw the ticket it only hurt him more. He was rather pleased that he could cover the ticket with something that gave light to his darkened world "At least Alfred mends my heart" Arthur said aloud closing the drawer.

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Alfred was sitting in Rome's office. It was a large room with soft brown carpet on the floor as fibres brushed past your feet with each step you took on your bare feet. The wall was a dark shade of auburn brown as the colour of the wall faded into the closed blinds that covered each individual window in a suspiciously discreet fashion. The room was dimly lit the only light in the room was the traditional lace and fabric covered lamp that sat on Rome's desk as he sat in the chair behind the desk, elbows placed firmly on the edge of the table fingers entwined with one another and a unusually worried expression on his normally cherry and care free face.

Alfred and Lovino stood in front of the desk both with concerned looks on their faces. Rome had ordered Ludwig to take Feli outside of the house to do something, anything that will keep him away from home for a while. Knowing Feliciano he will most likely be dragging Ludwig around the Italian patisserie or the Italian deli. Showing him all different types of Italian cuisine for which Ludwig would reply with a content but somewhat disgruntle groan.

"Rome you can't keep doing this! This hiding secrets its killing me, I can't lie to my best friend not anymore! Even keeping it from your own grandson! Where is your compassion!?" Alfred shouted at Rome his face heating him with pressure.

"Alfred, can you just shut up for once, bastado, I don't agree with Nono but whatever he says goes! Now shut up and accept it!" Lovino spat, though he somewhat agreed with Alfred he wanted to prove to Rome that he could be a faithful grandson and in future a successful mob boss.

"Alfred. I do not wish this on anyone, especially you or Feli or anyone, you must understand I would not do this if I didn't have a choice, but our strongest way in receiving money is to traffic the drugs! What else do you expect us to do? I will not allow my family to become like the Braginski's killing people for money, do you want to kill people?! Would you like to kill someone red handed?!" Rome's usually calm and cheerful composure had been buried somewhere deep beneath the ground unable to be dug up at this moment and for a second Alfred wasn't even sure if he would regain it.

"No… I could never do that, ending a life like that is just wrong! Even if they were trying to kill myself or someone I knew." The thought of that shot back to Arthur, covered in an endless amount of blood as it stained into his golden blonde hair that was now stained an ugly and discoloured orange as it mixed in with his hair. His clothes, that would be drenched in blood from the usually clean attire that he wore. If he was aware that he was dead he would probably be rolling in his grave at the disgusting blood splattered clothing, and his own blood smeared onto his alabaster face, his once lively green eyes empty and lifeless. "But something tells me you also called me here for something else why?" Alfred inquired shaking his head out of the thought; mentally not physically.

"Oh Alfred, I knew you weren't always the ripest tomato in the field, but you've really surprised me this time." Alfred gritted his teeth at that sly insult. "But, your hard work has been rewarded!" Rome cheered with a smile on his face that had now returned.

"Rewarded? Dude what the hell are you talking about?" Alfred inquired, he was getting rewarded for dealing drugs well isn't he just hero of the year then? Someone should give him a medal, saying world's best drug trafficker.

"Well you see I was in the mood for some good smooth jazz and I thought this could be your reward as well as Lovi's!"

"Hm, for once you are noticing me…" Lovino muttered under his breath, eyes filled with a pulsing rage against Rome. Only Alfred noticed this and gave a nudge at Lovi before he straightened himself up pulling a half-hearted smile to Rome.

"So I am deciding to take you both to see a good friend of mine!" Rome said cheerfully as Alfred gaped at how quickly he could regain his usual buoyant and jovial attitude. Meanwhile Lovi gave a huff as he crossed his arms. At this Alfred knew Lovi was ready for an argument and stepped back waiting for Lovi to scream into Rome's face literally sending Alfred's ears bleeding in pain.

"Oh that'll be swell! Tell us who is he!?" Lovino sarcastically retorted back at Rome a lot quieter than Alfred had expected but still loud enough to send his ears ringing.

"Oh Lovi your excitement exceeds you, an old friend of mine, Louis Armstrong. He's performing at Park Theatre. Oh you must here him he is just amazing!" Rome gave a toothy grin as he spoke which left Alfred wondering how on earth had he met Louis Armstrong, perhaps he was one of Rome's previous members. Alfred wondered or maybe he just knew him from doing something in his past, because he was always good at bass so the likelihood of him knowing him through music was very high.

"Why don't you just shoot a bullet at me right now! I'd rather die than go to a stupid concert!"

Rome chuckled darkly "That can be arranged, my sweet roma tomato…" before he pulled out a gun at the pocket of his blazer, with a smug grin on his face. Lovino stepped back in alarm before he bowed his head as a gesture of submission. Alfred followed but instead of a bow he did a cheesy salute shoving his right hand against his heart. "Good, now I suggest you dress properly after all it is quite a formal event." Rome said as his fingers laced the barrel of the gun before swiftly cocking the gun at Alfred who in turn stood frozen but slightly shivering. Rome let out another chuckle as he placed the gun onto the desk. "Ah I'm tired, now off with you two I'll see you later tonight." His hand gestured to the door and without a second thought Alfred and Lovino scampered out of the office but gently shut the door behind him.

Alfred turned to Lovino with a scared shitless "What the fuck was that about? Dude, your granddad used to be so nice! What the fuck happened?"

"Oh shut up bastardo! I'd tell you if I knew! But I don't ok? Just, cazzo! I don't know, all he told me was he was under a lot of stress!" Lovino screamed in a hush whisper still realising that they were still outside the office, a long sigh escaped his lips as he walked down the hallway.

"We can't tell Feli can we?" Alfred's gaze still remained on Lovino as he walked. He stopped mid-step and turned to face Alfred whose eyes were glistening with dread and worry.

"If you know what's good for you stupid Americano, you best keep it in your trap!" Lovino shouted abruptly before he marched his way down the hallway not once looking back at Alfred who still remained at the door of the office.

Alfred's gaze turned to the door as he placed his hand on the door frame allowing his fingers to slide down in a straight and sharp motion "I'm sorry Feli." He mumbled as his hand ghosted off the door-frame back to his side before he turned and walked down the empty hallway, fingers trailing along the wallpaper as well as the endless amounts of paintings of portraits, pasta and Italy in general.

* * *

As Alfred walked all he could think about was Arthur and Feli. Even though Feli knew a lot more than Arthur, Feli was just as innocent. He just couldn't imagine his granddad doing something so dark and twisted like dealing drugs which in Alfred's mind was plain sadistic.

As a large gust of wind brushed past Alfred's face a shiver was received from the American. Though his suit had provided bountiful layers of warmth he still felt freezing cold. Maybe he wasn't cold. Maybe he was just worried. Maybe he was worried about Rome. His head swam with worries he had arrived early which was unusual for the American as he was always the last person to arrive but part of the reason he arrived early was Rome. The man who had aspired him to do something meaningful with his life was swimming in green and was rich with greed and lust.

Rain suddenly began to trickle down from the grey overcast night sky. As Alfred looked up he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the moon who was shining brighter than usual like a brand new penny. Alfred had forgotten to bring an umbrella, having no protection from the rain besides his fedora which he did not intend for getting wet he decided to step back closer to the door of the theatre hoping that Lovino and Rome would come soon.

Just as the weather worsened, now bucketing down water in an endless typhoon of rain, Alfred saw a glimpse of Lovino, well technically Lovi's curl but all the same it was Lovino. Though there was a large distance between Alfred and Lovi, Alfred could already read the sadness on his face, his head was slumped down as well as his fedora that was covering half of his face all besides the curl that even looked depressed as it hung low oh his hair. Next to him was Rome who was looking for jovial then his previous sadistic state. He almost looked like he was skipping along with the patter of rain falling from the sky. Lovi was holding an umbrella in his hand looking quiet pissed that it had decided to rain.

When they had finally reached the theatre Lovino's eyes lit up which was something that they rarely did, olive green eyes filled with angst were marching straight towards Alfred's confused sapphires. Not a word was spoken as Lovino grabbed Alfred's wrist and dragged him with a huff inside the theatre a feeling far too familiar for Alfred but not as alluring as it had felt the previous time he had done so. Alfred didn't struggle only allowing the pissed Italian to lead him into the theatre with Rome following close behind.

Alfred and Lovino got some distance between themselves and Rome and were able to slip into a small alleyway behind the theatre. It was a dump; dumpsters left open protruding a potent smell as well as the rubbish that had been thrown out of it and was now lying on the floor for Alfred and Lovino to step on, a couple of mouses scurried along on the floor narrowly intersecting around Alfred and Lovino's shoes.

Alfred looked over to Lovino to see the fiery green eyes in the Italian had now faded and all that showed on his face was fear, he was trembling.

"Dude, what happened? Are you hurt? Did he hurt you? Is Feli ok?" Alfred inquired far too many questions for Lovino's liking.

"Shut up and stop with the questions! I'll tell you!" Lovino spat as he pulled up the sleeve from his suit jacket to reveal fresh clean and precise slashes trailing from his wrist all the way up to his forearm. Alfred gasped in shock before pulling Lovino's hand towards him ever so gently not wanting to hurt him even more, Lovino winced at the pain it caused as if Alfred was pressing against each individual cut.

"Lovi, who did this to you?" Alfred's face was nothing short of terror, he was concerned for Lovi but even more for Feli, he hadn't seen him all day and he hoped that Ludwig was taking care of him.

"Who do you think dumbass?" Lovino spat as he pulled his jacket down once again covering over the cuts on his arm.

"Is Feli ok?"

"Yeah, that potato eating waste of an Italian is just fine; if it weren't for me he'd probably end up worse than this." Lovino gestured to his arm.

"Dude what's that supposed to mean?"

"I never wanted to fucking tell you this but, oh cazzo, Rome has been abusing Feli as well as me, but Feli has suffered so much more than me, my nono's a dead straight bastardo! I hate him so much!" Alfred had never seen him care so much for his younger brother it was almost endearing.

"Lovi what do you me—" Alfred spoke with concern before Rome came into view directly behind Lovino.

"Ah boys so glad I found you, c'mon it's going to start soon!" Rome said as he placed his hands on Lovino's shoulder's receiving a whimper from him in return. Alfred stood there speechless but complied following Rome and Lovino down the alleyway and back into the theatre.

The lobby of the theatre looked extremely posh, with large amounts of light fixtures fixated on both the walls and on the ceiling with so many different designs and patterns on them that at every turn Alfred would find a new one. The floor was a blood red carpet that looked as if it was shampooed on a daily basis as there was no dirt no dust at all on the carmine carpet. The walls were a white marble that glistened from the direct light shining onto it portraying a colour hue as it reflected off the light.

The theatre was just as regal with a large amount of chairs scattering around the room in a semicircular shape in order for everyone to get the best viewing possible. There were a few private booths that sat on the second floor overlooking the stage and down at the people below as if they were the president and first lady themselves. Because of Rome's position in society so to speak they were able to score a booth.

As Alfred, Lovino and Rome walked up the stairs they received a few looks that all looked displeased and frightened and Alfred was very thankful that most if not all were directed at Rome. They took their seats Rome sitting behind Alfred and Lovino sitting next to Alfred, normally he wouldn't do this but under the circumstances Alfred really couldn't blame Lovino for doing so. Though the chairs were plump and comfortable Alfred couldn't find a position that sat right but he just blamed it on the nerves for the whole entire evening.

Alfred could hear the shilling click of a gun's barrel, Rome's barrel in this case as he spun it around slowly to set a melancholy fuelled tension, which made Alfred's heart beat rapidly as if it were going to burst out of his chest any second now. Lovino didn't look to great either; his usual tanned olive skin looked much paler as Alfred could sense him shaking in his seat.

To Alfred's enlightenment the lights dimmed down at the only source of luminosity was the stage, with light fixtures so bright it was enough to blind all those on stage but the perfect lighting for those in the audience. The band started playing a light smooth jazz, trumpets, trombones, saxophones, tuba's you name it they were all playing in an entrancing harmony, filling up the room with beautiful music that sent each person in the audience swaying to the beat all expect Alfred and Lovino, the music didn't comfort them at all, the foreboding feeling never ceased as Rome started to hum along to the tune, out of tune and out of harmony as he hummed, only to send a shiver up Alfred's spine.

The performance was over and Alfred couldn't wait to go home. As he Lovino and Rome walked out of the theatre the chill of the air immediately hit them. Alfred gave a wry smile at Lovino before they walked down the street in the darkness of the night the only light was from the faintly lit street lights. Rome was still humming the tune in an eerie hum as they walked.

All was quiet until Alfred heard a few shuffling footsteps from the rooftop above. Alfred swiftly shot up at the rooftop to look for the perpetrator of the noise, there was none. Believing it to be his imagination he continued to walk down the street.

Another noise, this time it sounded like the cocking of a gun. But it was a thick and heavy cock. _A rifle?_ Alfred wondered as he continued to look around for the gunmen. Pulling out his own gun he received a concerned but frustrated look from Lovino while Rome paid no attention to it and continued prancing down the street. Alfred inspected each individual building rooftop he found no one but was still dead set sure that someone was there.

Gun shot. The sound rippled through the air as it was fired; it was if it were a crack of lightning, loud and compelling. Alfred and Lovino looked around again wondering who it was aimed at while checking their own bodies by patting down their clothing making sure they were fine until they heard a gasp followed by shallow breathing behind them. They turned to see Rome tightly holding his chest as he leant over and collapsed on the floor. Lovino hastily pushed Alfred out of the way sending him back a few paces and placed Rome's trembling body into his lap. He sputtered out some Italian that Alfred couldn't understand the only thing that Alfred could understand was "Avremo vendetta". We will have revenge.

Alfred stood there speechless as he allowed his mind to process what had just unfolded. _Why would they shoot at the chest? They only do that if—_ Alfred wondered before his highly skilled ears followed the sound of where the rifle had been fired. A man, yes a man he could tell by the figure, it wasn't a large muscly man but a small and scrawny boy more likely, was standing on a three-story high building, rifle in hand and his face covered by the darkness of the night as well as a black hooded shirt he had over his head. The man turned around his back now facing Alfred, before he could continue a large gust of wind flew past the man and his hoodie fell down the only thing Alfred could make out of the man was his honey blonde hair that looked about shoulder length. The man pulled up his hoodie before running out of sight. Alfred wanted to chase the man but he couldn't the man was long gone.

Alfred stared down at Lovino who was still holding Rome's body, Lovino's hands now covered in a thick coat of red blood as tears rolled down from his eyes. "They only do that if… they want war…." Alfred said through the crystal clear tears that were beginning to form out of the corners of his eyes.

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**A/N So who is this mysterious killer mhm? I wanna see if you all can guess, so post below who you think it is! Next chapter is more sexy time with Iggy and Alfie! And I say this again I am so sorry for the Out of character Lovino but I needed him to be a little bit more lets say not South Italian.  
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**Also to I've been real busy at Uni so I may not update some weeks, but I promise If I don't it's only a fortnight than a new chapter will be posted! I am not giving up on this! It will be completed!**

**Take care my lovelies and that's all folks. Lk :3 3  
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	5. Flat Lining tear drops

Tea and Scone Alliance

American Guns and an English Rose

1/3/14

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**A/N: How are you all going! New chapter! Yay partay! I got my first three reviews this week! Thank you all so much for reviewing you have no idea how happy it makes me to get your lovely feedback! **

**WARNING:Now this chapter involves both usxuk and a little bit of pg rated Itacest (lol not really) its more of a brotherly love type thing, you know!? **

**And another thing holy crap you guys 6 favourites and 19 followers! You make me so happy!**

**Now I will reply to my lovely reviewers in each chapter if I get some!**

**carbo21: Argh I want to tell you but I can't. But I like them detective skills, ya got there!**

**dishomestruckchick: Thank you very much, I know the last chapter was very rushed and I am really lazy when it comes to editing! **

**UKUSshipper (guest): ****I am very glad that this story as brought you to the usxuk shipping side of hetalia. It is my absolute favourite shipping and I will try my hardest to make it a smutty yaoi as I can! ;)  
**

**But anyways here you guys have the newest chapter! Enjoy!**

***flies away on magical flying mint bunny***

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**Chapter 5:** Flat Lining Tear Drops

The night sky was an overcast grey, with rain pouring out from the clouds and flowing from the pipes from the buildings beside them, causing the water to flow out onto the street, slippery and wet. Lovino was still clinging to Rome's dying body. Alfred had tried to pull him away but Lovino's tight grasp was dead locked. Alfred had never seen Lovino this emotional before, he had always been the type of person to wear a stern upper lip half the time it was quite confronting for Alfred to see someone with a tough and strong demeanor like Lovino break down and cry.

Lovino was both squeezing the hand of his grandfather and placing pressure over his chest, to somewhat stop the blood flow from escaping. His attempts were futile but that still didn't stop the arrogant, teary Italian from trying to save his grandfather.

The low sounds of murmurs and whispers drew closer as people had begun to crowd around them like a swarm of locus, all wondering what has just unfolded. Some with cameras and some with notebooks, others with hands over their mouths and a weary look upon their face, against the eager looks of the media surrounding them. Whatever they were they all knew who Rome was. The mafia boss of the Varga's family had just been shot and news reporters were scooping up any evidence that would lead to a scandal like there was no tomorrow.

As time began shifted to a standstill, Alfred had realised something. He wasn't safe anymore. With tears still streaming down his eyes and onto his cheeks like tiny daggers. Alfred shifted his body so that he was facing the direction were the crowd of people had left the smallest amount of space, and ran. Pushing through the gap while receiving a few disgruntled groans as well as a few shocked gasps, mainly from the women. He didn't know where he was going and nor did he care; he just had to get away from all the drama. A few news reporters followed him but gave up as the muscly build that Alfred had, supported his screaming muscles that were longing for rest.

Alfred looked up to all the buildings he passed, all casting looming shadows onto the streets below, not even the street lights cold illuminate them. He flew past the building were the assailant once stood, that honey blonde man with no face and no compassion killed a man in cold blood. Alfred held back the urge to sprint up the stairs of the building and scream, yell and curse at the top of his lungs but he continued to run, only one person could help him now…Arthur.

* * *

Arthur was humming a tune as he worked, feeling jovial then usual as he placed down another drink on a table. He received a few thank yous which in turn he gave a polite nod of the head. As he walked back to the bar, he stumbled upon the barmaid accidentally knocking into her. Katyusha was her name and she was most notoriously known for her breasts that wobbled at the contact of Arthur and sent him flying back a few paces, thanks to their large size.

Katyusha was Ukrainian, a very sweet girl, hard-working at that. Her brother as far as Arthur knew is a very high-class businessmen who was in search for a job for his sister, part of the reason he accepted her to the job was her brother. Arthur found him quite frankly frightening. Even though he had never met the man, he belled Arthur once to ask for the job, as Arthur was looking for a co-worker so that he could spend more time with Alfred will they worked. Ivan's voice was a deep and a slightly creepily friendly voice with a thick Russian accent to him. Which was part of the reason why he excepted her as well as the seemingly foreboding threat he got from him _She will become one with you, meaning that you will become one with me, da? _That sent Arthur shivering at the end of the phone line.

Though Katyusha is extremely hard-working she is highly clumsy. Almost every night she would drop a pint of beer on the floor causing Arthur to clean it up with a snarl upon his face. As he did that Katyusha would jump down as well to help with the cleaning, her breasts jiggling as she swept up shards of broken glass drenched in beer. Or she would be caught off-balance, Arthur always thought it was thanks to her breasts when she leant forward to hand a drink to the customer she would often slip causing her to fall face first, well in this case breast first onto the table, which the half-drunken customer would only enjoy more, often pulling her in against her will usually by breast as she let out a small yell in protest. Of course Arthur would often separate the customer from Katyusha, he couldn't possibly have a drunken customer sexually assault a staff member, now could he?

As Arthur looked back at Katyusha a sparkle of apology lit up in her teal green eyes, he only smiled in return and gave a nudge to her shoulder, insisting that all was fine and nothing was wrong. With that her cheeks widened as she gave a fully stretched smile, almost looking as if she was going to permanently stretch her cheeks. She dusted her white apron off, which was ridden with holes, due to the fact that so many times she had fallen over and bumped into the corner of the table, as she swiftly shuffled away, her apron would often receive a tear. Her apron was literally covered in endless amounts of blanket stitching, which Arthur would often look down upon. The stitching was messy the string she used was wrong and she should have used a hem stitch and not a blanket stitch. Its basic embroidery! From the top to the bottom hem; there wasn't a single area of fabric that hadn't been pricked by the unskilled needle.

"Oh, I am so sorry Mr Kirkland. You have been ever so humble to me, and I am often finding myself breaking something of yours, for that I am so sorry!" Katyusha said apologetically, as she hung her head forward to show her sincerity. Arthur gave a light chuckle, smiling as he gave her a light pat on the shoulder as he did so.

"Katyusha how many times have I told you, call me Arthur nothing more and certainly nothing less. And there is nothing to apologize for, when I first started working here I was dropping plates and cups constantly and nearly drove my parents up the wall." He tenderly comforted Katyusha.

Really she had done no wrong, if anything she had sent business soaring through the roof. Unfortunately for the large majority of perverted men, but no matter what business was business and the more money Arthur made the more things he could do with Alfred. Not in that context! Somewhat of a secret mutual relationship on the brink of friends with benefits, could describe Alfred and Arthur's relationship, in fact Alfred and Arthur really didn't have a name for their relationship. Sure they saw themselves as lovers who would often make out on the couch, gripping and grinding against one another's bodies as their body heat rose between the two bodies as they were only centimetres apart, until they found themselves breathless and panting like an exhausted and lethargic hound.

"Now I see there are a couple of impatient patrons that need your service." He said glancing over to the far corner bar table that seemed darker an ominous than the rest of the bar. The usual Prussian sat down with already three empty bear glasses, not looking tipsy in the slightest, just the usual over the top enthusiastically perverted attitude that he always expels from himself. A new comer sat across from him, his back facing Arthur, who was unable to see the new mysterious person. What he could gather was that he had black to brown hair that seemed to be gelled back, noticing the amount of hair that was brushed back that didn't look naturally permed, as well as the small ahonge sticking out of his hair, how could that not ever be highly noticeable. Glasses were obviously framed across the bridge of his nose due to the fact he kept moving his hand to his nose to push something back into place.

Before Arthur's curiosity could get the better of him, a loud bang filled the room as he recognised the sound. It was the bloody door, there was no way he couldn't recognise it as it swung back crashing against the wall with a large thump of force. Arthur was just about to rouse at the person who had disrupted his moment of tranquility. Before he got a glimpse of the person, the thick forest mesh met those of the deep blue seas. It was Alfred.

Arthur wanted to run up to him jump into his arms in excitement and exhilaration but he had faced two problems. The first was the amount of people in his bar; all eyes fixated on Alfred who had created a rather dramatic entrance into the pub as if he was demanding attention, Arthur paid no mind to this because half the time he always was. But this time he wasn't seeking attention for the right reasons; this was Arthur's second problem. The usual giddy smile upon Alfred's face was missing as fresh mixed with dry tears rolled down his cheeks, all exceeding from his now fogged up glasses as rain running down a stream straight line on a windows glass on a rainy day.

Alfred's usual skip to his step was slowed down as he trudged his way into the bar, clothes sopping wet and ignoring the befuddled looks of other bar goers. As his focus was determined and fixated directly on Arthur who stumbled backwards at the intense glare he received from Alfred. Arthur placed down the black rounded tray on the bench and walked over to Alfred. He wanted to hug Alfred oh so desperately, gently cradle him tell him that everything was ok and ask him to explain what had happened as they would sit on the foot of Arthur's bed and discuss everything, but he couldn't so instead he walked directly into Alfred's path. Arthur met Alfred, in the middle of eyes watching them as if they were animals in a cage, hungry, lashing against each other ferociously.

Eerie silence was displayed as their eyes laid contact with one another. Alfred looked like a good awful mess. His usual ash blonde hair, literally looked as it was covered in a thick cloud of ash, as it was sopping wet. Water mixed in with bleak black soot that was lingering through the once vibrant wheat blonde hair that now looked drained from all colour. It had looked as if he had practically ran through the fireplace and came out with black charcoal all over his hair and some smidges on his face and neck. The thing that frightened Arthur the most were his eyes, his eyes hidden behind his spectacles, his eyes blue as the far horizon of the midday sky on a cloudless day. Eyes blue as calm still water, eyes that were now a dark shade of sombre blue that resembled the churning waves of a reckless typhoon, sweeping destruction in its path only Alfred didn't look like he had been on a reckless ravenous rampage more like he had been the one running away from one, as he panted heavily as he stood.

Instead of gently tugging Alfred's hands, Arthur jolted forward gripping onto Alfred's forearm and pulling him harshly away from the befuddled onlookers and Katyusha, who gave an arched eyebrow before she lowered the raised arch giving a gentle smile as she tried to distract the other bar goers. "Oh whoops I spilt all this beer all over my apron, who will help me clean it up~?" she said in a sweet melodic sarcastic voice sending the testosterone fuelled men into a frenzy, jumping out of their seats and running up to the Ukrainian, tongues hanging out and non-existent tails wagging.

Arthur mouthed a small thank you as he led Alfred up the stairs to his bedroom turning on the lamp that was resting on the desk, giving a dim light to the lowly lit room that was only illuminated by the hustle and bustle of the city lights outside of the window. No shining stars could ever be seen as if they were hushed to never shine again.

He settled down the quivering ash haired blonde on the foot of the bed. Alfred's head still remained low, hanging like a rag doll as he sat on the bed still shaking as it was his only response Arthur could rely on for communication. Arthur lowered himself onto the bed so his body was shifted to face Alfred's sombre and shaking figure. He pushed away Alfred's spectacles placing them on the bedside table so he could get a full view of those piercing ocean blue eyes he loved. But they weren't the eyes he loved, the eyes he loved were big and bright blue eyes that looked as if they had never seen a single sad moment in life. These eyes were not the ones he loved, filled to the brim of tears and shaking in fear as if he had seen death itself.

He gently wrapped his hands around Alfred's back to give a warm feeling of comfort he was obviously lacking. Alfred melted into this, gripping the back of Arthur's white dress shirt that was now covered in a thin layer of black soot from Alfred's hands.

Arthur was surprised to see Alfred literally break down in front of him. If anything he always thought that if Alfred were to cry than the world may have just ended. Arthur simply couldn't imagine the cheerful American shed a single tear, he was far too happy to do so.

Arthur could do nothing but sit there, giving tender signs of affection, by gently holding Alfred in one hand will the other hand smoothly caressed its way through his slick wet ash blonde locks gently twiddling with the strands in the meantime.

"Stay here; I'll go get you a towel. Don't worry about the people down stairs, Katyusha has got it under control." Arthur cooed as he rose from the bed and Alfred felt as it lost the evenness and was now sinking down the mattress with his body mass. He shifted his body into a tucked shape, his knees resting against his head as if he was desperately trying to block himself from a fatal blow that was never to come physically, but mentally it had already hit, smashed and broken his heart, body and mind.

Just as Arthur left the room, Alfred's trail of thoughts got the better off him, he thought of Lovino and how he was going and what he would have to tell Feli, he could only imagine the small cheery Italian crumble to his knees and sob his eyes out until his eyes were bloodshot with a red rim around the chestnut-brown eyes, a blotchy red face along with flaming red cheeks and until no more tears could shed.

Before the thought could get the better of him, he rephrased what Arthur had told him. _Wait? Did he say Katyusha?_ Alfred jumped at the thought _No It can't be_, but it indeed was, Katyusha the older sweet sister of Ivan that never wanted to be involved in the family business.

She is so sweet an innocent as the sunflower of her homeland. Alfred always admired her because she had always she had always turned her back on criminal schemes but never family, always being there for her little brother, slightly psychotic and sadistic little sister in-law and their two children who Katyusha loved to visit.

She was always a kind aunt, not being able to afford to buy them anything but she would always teach them things, like how to plant a seed in the high season of winter so it would grow to a strong and healthy plant into spring, she was always an exceptional grew tired of farming but she had always continued to farm even if it was a simple pot plant in the backyard with a few measly weeds that were needy to be picked, she would always farm.

Even though Ivan had offered her money and demanded that she would take a weekly sum, she denied it. She was really an outsider to all of this, but she still knew the faces and Alfred could see the way her bright and bubbly smile deflated as Alfred walked through the door not in disgust but in disappointment. She had always wished Alfred for a better life and that he should walk away will he still had a chance but he never listened to her gentle pleads.

Arthur came back moments later with a small hand towel cupped into his hands, slightly revealing his embroidery on the bottom left corner of the soft white towel, it looked like a small bright yellow sunflower that could only blend in with the white bath towel. He shut the door behind him receiving a quiet creak as it swung back into the frame locking into place, a gentle smile upon his face as he sat down next to the quivering American, who was still rolled up in a ball.

He offered the towel out to Alfred receiving a stiff shake of the head before he placed the towel onto his ash blonde hair and started drying off his hair, shaking the towel vigorously as he did so. Bits of soot and grass for some strange and unknown reason came flying out of Alfred's hair along with large amounts of water than dripped off the tips of his locks. He looked down at the once shaking wet golden retriever dog and smiled brushing his hands along Alfred's cheeks. Arthur heard a small whisper inaudible for him to hear, he wanted Alfred to repeat but he didn't want to push him, honestly he looked like he went through hell and back.

Alfred unwrapped himself from his personal cocoon before sitting up to face Arthur, with the same trembling deep blue eyes with shaking irises. He didn't know what he could do or what he could say, when no words could come out besides the undetectable stutter he pushed all of his body weight on to Arthur causing the Brit to jump before he managed to stabilize the new amount of weight resting on his torso. Alfred moved his head to the crook of Arthur neck, weeping immensely into the crook to receive a few small quiet and comforting "shhs" from Arthur.

"A-Arthur…" Alfred said muffled as his head was still in the crook of Arthur's neck, his sobs turned into light hiccups from crying so much. Arthur just thought it was just so damn adorable. Alfred looked ever so frail and fragile as a child it was almost endearing.

"Yes poppet?" Arthur cooed at Alfred who still laid in his reassuring and tender arms. Alfred's beaming blue eyes stared into Arthur's own forest green who were currently showing the most caring concern.

"Damn it Arthur, I can't hide from this anymore." Alfred said softly, but to him it felt like a shout. Something he had been holding in his chest, slowly building up over time, longing to burst free.

"Then tell me, I promise I won't run away. I mean it's not like you're a mass murder is it?" Alfred sent Arthur a concerning look both with eyes and mouth "You're not are you?" He asked as he stepped back slightly on the bed before Alfred pulled him in more a large strangling embrace.

Alfred chuckled a bit at that "God no Arthur I could never hurt you nor anyone else." Alfred's eyes flickered around the room before directly looking into Arthur's, as the mood turned from a light and jovial to a deep and intense sombre. "Arthur I want to be honest with you…" Alfred trailed off as he laced his hand over Arthur's slender fingers, latching them together as if Arthur were to run away. "Now Arthur I am serious please don't run away but…" Alfred said in a deep and gravely serious tone that sent Arthur to mentally shudder, but remaining still remaining water still as he sat. "I am blue eyes." Alfred squeezed Arthur's hands lightly as he stated as he felt the mention of those two little words could intensify the room in a matter of seconds.

Arthur choked at this, _No he can't be. Blue eyes, the same person who has been mentioned so many times in the newspaper, always tied in with the Varga's mafia family. He can't be, Alfred, my poppet Alfred._ The most dreadful thoughts swam through his head, nothing good could come with dealing with the Mafia and as much as he loved Alfred (thought he would never admit to it) he just couldn't allow someone he knew to be involved with something so sinister.

Alfred could sense that the statement was digging into Arthur's heart almost taking large chucks out as it dug deeper ripping apart the fragile surface and slickly navigating its way into the centre of his heart. Arthur started to rock forward and wobble off-balance as Alfred noted that his eyes were cross-eyed as he looked as if he were to faint. Arthur's eyes became heavy and hazy as if it were being forced shut by an intangible and invisible force. Arthur finally gave way falling forward rather harshly against Alfred's body sending both blondes flat on the bed as Arthur collapsed onto Alfred.

"Shit, Arthur c'mon dude wake up." Alfred said as lightly slapped Arthur across the face, not meaning to hurt him but just enough to wake him up. It came to no avail. Alfred grabbed the slightly damp and dirty towel that Arthur had put down on the bedside alongside Alfred before he had passed out.

Alfred Sprinted towards the bathroom door he twisted the handle as he hastily bolted into the room searching for the basin his eyes shined as they located the brass sink. Turning on the tap with a god like force he placed the towel underneath the running water causing it to become absolutely saturated with water. He squeezed the towel causing the dirt, soot and god knows what else to drain out of the towel and into the sink below. He turned off the tap before he raced back into Arthur's room to find Arthur still unconscious on the bed, his legs hanging off the side of the bed as he laid there.

Rushing over to Arthur's unresponsive body he placed the wet towel over his forehead, causing the Brit to groan in response. Alfred gave a sigh of relief at the sign of response, even though it was as pitiful as an annoyed groan. Alfred looked down to see one of Arthur's eyes half lidded and his face complexly flushed in embarrassment mixed with anger. He gave a small smile to see Arthur was ok but he knew it would slip away and Alfred would have the biggest scolding in his life. Even bigger than the usual ones on his grammar and pronunciation on the English language, but he couldn't deny the fact the Arthur was just so fucking cute when he was putting on an adorable pout as he yelled at Alfred.

As Arthur became fully aware as his senses tingled and buzzed all at once almost giving Arthur a large and painful headache as he shot back up to reality. He could see Alfred lying on top of him giving a gentle smile as he reached his hand over to Arthur to allow his hands to glide though Arthur's golden blonde locks as Arthur did the same for him.

Arthur suddenly shuffled back trying to get away from Alfred as far as possible but he found his attempts were futile as Alfred grabbed a hold of Arthur's waist pulling him back in for another strenuous and tight embrace, as Arthur was locked in to place unable to move as he attempted to turn and twist in Alfred's tight hold. He looked back up into Alfred's eyes that were now a calming blue sea, no thrashing and crashing waves just blissful peace.

"Arthur you have to trust me that I would never hurt you, or want to hurt you for that fact. Even if I was forced to, I couldn't, I could never do that." Alfred tried to reassure the Brit, who saw nothing but fear in the emerald green eyes. Tears began to form at the corner of Arthur's eyes as he continued thrashing in the grip.

"Why? Why Alfred, why would you be in such a thing, why would you do such a thing, you stupid git?!" Arthur yelled, now tears swept down his cheeks uncontrollable and unstoppable as he stopped fighting and allowed Alfred to hold him for fear he might pass out again.

"Arthur…I had to, look I am going to tell you something I have never told anyone, no one, okay?"

Arthur nodded meekly in response as Alfred gave a large and hefty sigh; it really was a long story. "When I was younger, I helped a boy who is actually the grandson of the mob I work for, Feliciano or Feli as I like to call him. He was poor believe it or not, and along with his brother Lovino. Each and every day they walked out onto the streets stealing silverware. I honestly couldn't blame them, they were so young and desperate for an ounce of food I couldn't imagine the childhood. I helped them by letting them come with Mattie and I to lunch along with my parents. My parents loved them at first sight, well all except Lovino who had a bit of a temper to him… and still does now." Alfred gave a small chuckle at the thought of Lovino being an smidgen of what Feliciano was

Alfred gave a large exhale as Arthur looked to him a wry smile on his face as he was still in the tight hold from Alfred. "Eventually the moved in with their grandfather who had only just begun his career in the criminal profession, so to speak. Mattie and I moved back to Virginia and lived like a normal family, with smiling parents and a brother that too sweet and kind to be your average brother. Until one day pa passed away in 1918, Spanish Influenza, it was just so sudden, so unfair how could a life be taken away from me so easily." Arthur could feel the atmosphere in the room, it was almost tangible and it had a sharp and jagged feel to it, similar to a piercing serrated edge of a knife.

Arthur gave Alfred a look that Alfred knew exactly what it meant as if he only needed to look into the piercing forest green eyes that were staring back at him. _You don't have to continue. _Was all Alfred could read off Arthur's face, he was just glad that Arthur had not run down stairs and practically blurt out who he was to the entire bar. When Arthur remained in his place, he decided to continue on.

"Anyway, after my dad died my step-mom practically disowned me, separating me from Matthew. Dude, I swear I had never seen Mattie cry so hard that day, it was never ending even as I left the house he never let go of me, clinging to my waist as I walked down the porch stairs. I moved to Manhattan with the money I had saved up from doing chores around the community. You know washing cars, shining shoes, walking dogs and helping old ladies across the street. I had made just enough money to get by. Manhattan looked so much more different from when I last saw it. I had everything I could ever want delivered to me on a silver plate while when I came back I was the lowest of the low struggling every day to make a living. A few months later the employer I worked for fired me and I was tossed out on the streets. With no money and food I roomed the streets looking for work, to my luck there was none. After three whole days of eating nothing, which is absolutely crazy for my diet anyway, my body finally gave out and I collapsed beside a dumpster in a backstreet alleyway. Only when I woke up I saw Feli's smiling face. From there Feli gave me a job with Rome and I've basically gotten my money off him ever since and that job as a news reporter is basically a shamble, I can't write at all!" Alfred joked at the end receiving a small chuckle from the Brit in his arms.

"I gathered as much, git." Arthur mumbled underneath his breath as he pushed away from Alfred's tight hold once he saw that Alfred had loosened his steel like grip. God he had always wondered how Alfred had ended him in a job like that. His spelling was dreadful from what he saw from the notebook.

"But Arthur do you forgive me?" Alfred said as his head drooped down and his lips shifted into a pleading pout, which he knew was pointless since it only worked on the weak minded and the too kind and which Arthur was neither. _Must be a British thing_ he wondered

"Alfred, I honestly don't care what you do, as long as it is rational, but what concerns me more is how scared I will be that you won't come back because… because…" Arthur took a large exasperated deep breath in, "I-I. Argh god damn it, I fucking love you Alfred F. Jones!" Arthur shouted loudly, ears ringing out before what he said kicked into his mind and his cheeks ran a scorching hot red, literally covering his entire face and neck as the alabaster porcelain faced Brit looked as if he were going to collapse any minute of embarrassment. _Damn it, why did I have to be the one to say it first…_ Arthur mentally kicked himself as he said so, he hated being the one to always say it first and now that he had he felt rather insecure.

Alfred's face practically lit up at the compassion that was seeping through Arthur currently, he didn't know Arthur could care so much, from being grouchy half the time and the other half he was horney beyond his limits. Alfred didn't care what he did now he was so content, he grabbed Arthur by the waist pulling him in rather harshly and forcing his lips onto the Brit which Arthur complied without any second thoughts closing his eyes as he did so, so he could feel the fully heightened aroma of passion that was practically extenuating from Alfred's body.

The feeling was wonderful; it was a rich and gooey feeling tingling throughout Alfred's and Arthur's bodies. Though this kiss wasn't the usual hunger filling kiss it still felt as memorable. It was gentle; it was kind, it was a soft, it was a chaste but passionate kiss that melted both of their hearts into nothing but mush, mixing together blue and green together creating a beautiful turquoise. It was something that both of them desperately needed an ounce of comfort that was now radiating from both of them.

"I love you too, Artie." Alfred managed to say as they pulled apart only to be pulled back in again, Alfred lunging forward into Arthur, tenderly kissing him not only on his face but creating a smooth straight row of kisses running up his neck sending Arthur to moan in elated pleasure. Their arms and legs entangled with one another as they made out on the bed, more ferocious than they have done before as there was a tongue war in dominance, which of course Alfred had won receiving a small growl from Arthur as succumbed to it. (A/N ,Sorry guys I know you want sex scenes but this is leading up to one)

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Lovino was now sitting in the scraped and waded fabric of the hospitals armchair. He had some nice onlookers call for an ambulance as that stupid American ran off into the streets practically leaving Rome for dead. How it made his blood boil as he slumped back into the chair waiting impatiently for Feliciano and Ludwig to come. Arms crossed as he stared up at the wall clock, he'd only been there an hour and yet little had been done. Rome was in a serious condition in the operation room and the doctors had now discovered that he had been shot in the stomach and lower arteries were failing as they spoke.

Lovino didn't know how to feel, he hated his grandfather the same made with a two-sided, two faced face that would beat him up to a bloody pulp and then take him to the theatre the next minute. But at the same time he loved him, he was torn between two sides unknown what do, or what to say, he can no longer cry for he had shed too many tears to even comprehend.

The quiet chatter of the nurses and doctors rebounded off the walls and echoed throughout the hospital's many corridors, the lights caused him to go blind as he sat there looking at the floor as it reflected the light of the ceiling from the lino flooring. He sighed as he moved his hands to his lap, twiddling his thumbs in ecstasy, waiting for his brother to come. Though Lovino is a cold and heartless Italian at times, he also shows a caring which he knew he would have to put on for Feliciano's sobbing face.

The light pitter patter tread of boots resonated throughout the hallway as Lovino heard a few feminine squeals from the nurses as they neared closer to Lovino. He also heard the sound of two sets of large heavy walking speed stomps assisting the treads. Lovino shifted his gaze from his lap to the noise his ears perking as it drew closer. Moments later he saw the figure of Feliciano sprinting at rapid speed towards Lovino, no tears but he was on the verge of crying as he breathed heavy pants in-between breaths, behind him were the German brother's Ludwig and surprisingly Gilbert, who both displayed sombre looks on both albino and slightly pale faces. Heads hung down as they walked only meters behind Feliciano.

Lovino rose from the chair, for his eyes to get in contact with Feliciano's. He stood still, motionless unable to move until the sudden jolt of Feliciano crashing into Lovino's chest and ribcage, receiving a wince of pain mixed in with an annoyed grunt. Lovino wanted to shove Feli off, he really hated any form of manhandling even if it was innocent as a hug from his little brother, but he remained where he was wrapping his arms around Feli as he began to cry. Tears flowing down his cheeks like a never-ending waterfall, Lovino could only give a small smile and pat Feliciano's back as Feli practically latched onto Lovino and bringing all of his weight with him as Lovino felt he would collapse any minute.

Ludwig and Gilbert slowly approached after Feli whispering something inaudible for Lovino to hear but he wouldn't have any way, he hated Germans and he no doubt he doesn't speak the "Potato eating language" as he likes to call it.

"Gute abend Lovino, sorry we couldn't come sooner." Ludwig said as he looked between both Lovino and Feli, compassion drilled into his ice blue eyes.

"You should have come sooner you bastard, but its fine…I guess." A yell quieted down to chide.

"Wow I have never seen this much emotion out of you Lovino, its like a once and a life time event!" Gilbert snickered as he noted this, truly he was going to remember this.

"Shut up bastardo!" Lovino yelled as a couple of nurses stopped to look up at the commotion before looking back down at the clip folder and continuing with their jobs. Lovino also noted that Feli began to weep even heavier now "Feli, its ok" He sighed almost regretting what he was about to say. "Non ti preoccupare, grande fratello è qui" (Don't worry, Big Brother is here). Feli's chestnut-brown eyes lit up with a happiness that Lovino hadn't seen the entire evening as the tears from his eyes only made his auburn eyes seem more puffy and bloodshot.

Ludwig and Gilbert smiled at this sign of brotherly affection, that the two had hardly seen, "Oh Shut up before I blow a cap up your ass!" Lovino really hated any sign of unwanted affection, but the one person he longed attention from would never deliver it. At that his grip around Feli got slightly tighter as he was slowly constricting his younger brother. _It's just not fair, why, why does Feli get to be the favourite? I try so hard to be the favourite and he still hates me! _

"I'd like to see you try, you can't even throw a grenade without somehow stuffing it up! Like you usually do! No one can compare to the awesome Gilbert!" Gilbert boasted in-between laughs as the thought of Lovino putting a grenade between his lips literally made him want to collapse on the floor and laugh until his lungs were sore from exasperation. Meanwhile lovino gave a bone rattling glare at Gilbert before raising a middle finger over Feli's back in Gilbert's direction, causing Gilbert to gasp in derision, only to have Ludwig slap him on the top of his head. Wincing at the pain Gilbert looked up to see Ludwig smirking which was a rare occasion for the emotionless and expressionless German.

Shortly after one of the doctors walked out of the surgical ward, his head held high but his face shared a different story. His dark blue eyes looked downcast and his face looked nothing but miserable, a frown upon his smile and his skin a pale completion. From the look of his face all four of them could tell that there was bad news, as Feli tensed in Lovino's arms to have Lovino only hold him tighter and shift his neck in the crook of Feliciano as Feli did the same.

As the doctor drew closer, Feli and Lovino parted only before Feliciano clutched onto Lovino's elbow for support. Ludwig moved to stand beside Feliciano and Gilbert moved to stand beside Lovino receiving a small growl from Lovino, which Gilbert raised his hands to defensively before slumping them down to his sides.

The doctor stepped in front of all four men, clipboard in hand as his eyes lingered past all of them, not once lighting up to tell them it was ok, not once. "I am sorry there is no more we can do, we have tried operating on his stomach but the blood loss was too much and we just couldn't risk it, you can go see him now…while you can...he's in room 96." The doctor said as calm as he could, after all it was his job to reassure the patients and their family in situations like these.

Unable to speak Feli snatched his arm away from Lovino and ran down the corridor, passing nurses and doctors who gasped and stepped out of his path as he ran down searching for his grandfather's room. "96, 96, 96, 96. Room 96" He constantly blurted out looking for the room number to remind himself. He had only gotten into the mere 70's as he was sprinting down the hallway. (a/n haha so close to 69... :3)

Finally he had gotten into the 90's as he ran past each individual room looking inside to see any trace of his grandfather, before he stopped dead in his place in front of room 96. Feliciano slowly walked in, slightly panting as he did so to look down onto his grandfather who was lying in the bed, with a frightfully low heart rate as the ECG was dropping extremely low.

Feli didn't have time to fully examine the room, before he fell onto Rome's bed sobbing on his lifeless body as Feli navigated his way around the pesky and useless cords seeing as there was no point having them there, he was going to die either way. Feli scrunched up the white hospital linen between his hands as he lent forward onto Rome's body to hear faint and shallow breathing that was slowly drawing away.

Moments later Lovino, Gilbert and Ludwig bolted into the room heavily panting for breath. God how the fuck did Feliciano do it? Half the time he was lazy day dreaming about pasta and the other half he would be talking about pasta! The surprises of Feliciano Vargas always seemed to catch them off guard.

Lovino following Feliciano's suit and ran over to bed and propped himself face first into the sheets. No tears came just anger as he punched the mattress with force as it sunk down a little. Ludwig and Gilbert who were standing in the door way were having a conversation between one another, this time in English. Though Feli's loud sobs he could only make out a few words like 'Alfred' and 'pub'. Confused by this he paid no attention to it.

Feliciano pulled himself up from the mattress to sit on the chair that was next to Rome's bed. It was rather uncomfortable wooden chair but it would suffice. He reached over to grab Rome's hand which showed no sign of response and recognition at the warm touch of Feliciano's hand. Feli felt around for a pulse as he pressed two of his fingers into Rome's wrist. He shuddered and gasped as there was none.

With that Feli allowed his head to crash onto Rome's chest that remained still, never once rising or falling. The ECG beeped loudly signalling that he was flat lining as the markings began dropping and finally crashed to a slat straight line across the paper.

Lovino trudged his way over to Feli as he lifted up the soppy Italian's face up and body off of Rome's now deceased body. Their eyes came in contact dry and expressionless bright green met with teary red chestnut. Lovino pulled Feliciano once again as he too began crying on Feli's shoulder. Not as much as the smaller Italian but just enough to show that he was somewhat saddened by his grandfather's death.

Ludwig and Gilbert stepped into the room as a nurse appeared behind them. Her blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun and a nurse's cap tied over the top. She scurried into the room to remove the endless amounts of cords digging into Rome's body and began turning off the equipment. Her face showed nothing but sadness as he worked. She gave her kindest commemorations to Lovino and Feli as she straightened out her pale pink and white uniform before leaving as quietly as she came into another room down the hall with only a few clicks of her black high heels that weren't very high.

Feliciano loosed his grip on Lovino and jumped off of him to go and hug Ludwig with the same amount of bone breaking force. Gilbert looked at Lovino to see if he wanted the same affection as the younger Italian before Lovino mouthed a half threatened "Fuck off" to Gilbert. A usual smirk never came as Gilbert lowered his gaze to his shoes only for Feli to move from Ludwig to Gilbert upon which Gilbert teased with Feliciano's curl. Receiving a slight giggle from Feli before his smile slumped down again as well as the curl.

Lovino moved so that he was standing over Rome's body. No thoughts of happiness came to his mind as he looked over at his grandfather's body. Only the memories of sick and constant torture as he rubbed his hand over his forearm gliding over the ends rows of cuts, reminding him of all of his grandfather's years of torment towards him. His grandfather was a sick and twisted man and with that he deserved to burn at the bottom of hell where he would never see the light of day, which he didn't deserve.

Lovino leaned over the body his breath hitching as he did so. "Riposa in pace il mio dolce bastardo." (Rest in peace my sweet bastard). He looked over to Feli who was now in the middle of the two Germans that were gently comforting as he stood there, no longer crying but a smile never rose from his face. He mumbled under his breath as he looked over "I will be better than Nono Feli I promise you that…"

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**A/N Phew glad thats done, sorry this chapter I had a major writers block! I guess you get them sometimes! Sorry if you were expecting sex scenes I am working on them I promise! But I am having an issue I need your help on! Who should be the uke (bottom)? Personally I think it should be Uk but I want it be be US as well! I dunno what to do!**

**Well I may not post next weekend due to the fact I am going to a wedding! God damn it gonna be so wasted by the end of the night hooray for being British! No I kidd, fingers crossed it doesn't rain, most likely it will. Argh but ya get used to it when growing up!**

**Tee hee cya all later!**

**Lk :3 3 **


	6. The inexperienced and experienced member

Tea and Scone Alliance

American Guns and an English Rose

10/3/14

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**A/N Hey sorry for the late submission! I had way to much fun and surprsingly I didn't get drunk! But I have got a cold so its kinda a good and a bad thing! Good because well I get to write more and I have more time to write! Bad because I'm missing out on studies! Anyway here's your chapter! I apologize I hate writing late!**

**CAUTION: SEXY TIME**

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**Chapter 6:** The inexperienced and experienced member

It had only been a few hours since Arthur dumbfounded admitted his feelings for Alfred, thoughts swimming through his head in an endless monsoon. He couldn't listen to a single one. He had only just found out that Alfred was part of the notoriously infamous Vargas mafia and that he was what the news reporters called 'Blue eyes'. Which was an understatement seeing as Arthur couldn't just describe him in such little detail.

Alfred was more than that, he meant more to Arthur than just a silly idle label. He was Alfred and he was his as he was Alfred's. He was his tough strong country bumpkin American who could be just as oblivious and plain cheeky, but Arthur loved him to the very flaws he possessed. Arthur had always thought if anyone would be suffering, it would surely be him, not Alfred. But until the bottled up feelings of the American were released, smashing on the floor with a piercing shriek as glass broke and shattered into a million pieces setting free to all of his feelings in an array of melancholy.

While Arthur only saw himself as a torn up shell, no point in life, no direction, no meaning. Oh how he wish he went down with his vessel only then could he have found happiness to finally be laid to rest. If only he hadn't met that happy-go-lucky American in his bar that night. If only he hadn't complied with his offer of bourbon. If only he didn't go to that ruddy baseball game. If only he had just said no the American would never have been in his life and his world would have remained the same. A young man working at a bar till the end of his days was once Arthur's reputation, now he had a much larger meaning to life, thanks to that pestering, sweet American. He could never say no to that dimple filled smile that seemed to be gleaming from Alfred. It was almost toxic.

But mischievous and troublesome thoughts came whirling into his head mixing with the content ones. _What if this is all for show? What if he wants to kill me? Or he was hired to kill me? No, Alfred would never do that. I'm wrong, I hope I'm wrong._ Arthur thought to himself before he shook his head and shifted his body so he was lying comfortably in the crook Alfred's neck that was jutting out only inviting him to slip in.

Now Alfred sitting on Alfred's lap with the comforting and reassuring arms of Alfred wrapped around him like a security blanket, providing warmth to a child. Alfred was who was absolutely over the moon about Arthur's true feelings for him, Arthur could only mentally grumble, but his face on the outside didn't quite live up to it. Smiling beyond his limit, which was a rare occasion for him as he laid there in Alfred's arms. Never wanting to break the hold.

Nuzzling against the American's warm neck as he received a small amount of heat as he was rubbing against the thin layer cotton dress shirt, he received a small sigh in elation mixed with ecstasy. This hardly surprised Arthur by any chance, so he moved in further pressing his head into the crook, hair gently brushing past the patch of revealed skin sending a delightful tickle all along Alfred's neck. He shuddered a little at the touch.

Arthur moved his head away from Alfred as he sat up in the comforting arms that were currently wrapped around him, almost constricting for air but at the same time gentle and reassuring. Arthur's eyes trailed up Alfred's musically physic, eyes peering at each defining muscle he could clearly see through the thin layer shirt. Almost as if it were to spontaneously rip due to the pressure.

Slowly his eyes met those of Alfred's, now he could fully see the extent of his eyes. Unlike most of the time they were hidden by his spectacles, which Arthur didn't really mind much, but each time the blinds were drawn and he could fully see the miraculous hue of blue. 'Blue eyes' the simple name that was always his alias could never really describe the vibrancy of his sky blue eyes. His eyes reminded Arthur of cloudless days in the midday sun, the blue backdrop of the sky complementing the illuminated glow the sun set off, giving glare to anything that came in its way, sending the colour spectrum to rebound off anything and everything.

This was how he saw Alfred, warm like the sun and gentle as the sky. He knew he could never forgive himself if he rejected Alfred for his profession. He could plainly see that being in his current position was killing him, even more so than the threat of not making it home each day.

Almost as if he were going to war, a feudal war. Recreation of World War I, Nations battling for years and years and suddenly the bright and plainly clueless nation America sends off its troops into the middle of the battle. Unprepared and ill-equipped. This could clearly describe Alfred, getting involved in petty things he shouldn't, but that fucking dimple filled smile, never seen the tragedies of war would simply jump on a plane and head to war, meddling in what he shouldn't and what was clearly a fight between the older and more experienced nations.

The only question now was if he would return and if war would be won.

Looking back into those baby blues all he could do was smile. He wasn't sure if it was a smile that was meant to bring cheerfulness or one that was meant to be that concerning and wry smile that his mother had always gave him each time he had broken glass in the pub and accidently cut his hand, blood mixing with the alcohol of the beer causing Arthur to scream out in pain as it mixed in with the throbbing wound.

But Arthur wanted something, something he had been waiting for. The right person to do it and he believed that Alfred was the one. Not that Arthur believed in that love at first sight bull shit but something about Alfred kicked and somehow he felt he could tell Alfred all of his secrets and in return so could Alfred. There's just one he could never say. To say it would re-open the wound that loosely wrapped around his heart, threatening to break loose at any moment.

Lost in Alfred's eyes and Alfred lost in Arthur's, Alfred took this as his moment to move the sweet talking along. He pulled the Brit closer to his body, the warm friction instantly kicked in between the pair as Alfred's hands slid up the sides of Arthur's slender arms, over his pasty neckline and up to his bespectacled and unsure face.

Alfred gave a warm smile to Arthur, something Arthur hadn't seen that entire evening since he came rushing into his pub, drenched in water, panting like a mad dog and looking like a plain mess. It made Arthur feel warmer at the smile; as if with that small gesture of kindness nothing else mattered. It was just him and Alfred, and nothing could make Arthur feel happier than Alfred.

Alfred made sure to close the current gap between the pair that was roughly in-between too close and too far by cupping the slightly flushed pink cheeks of the Brit who looked nothing than pleased and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

Hands travelled up one another's body in an indescribable feeling that could be closely described as pleasurable, it was the light finger touches that sent tingles of ecstatic pleasure at the touch. While Arthur's movements were still as shy and cautious as ever he was still as power hungry as Alfred as he in turn moved his hands all along the back of the American, from the end of the tailbone sliding up to the nape of his neck. Grasping the ash blonde hair gently but fiercely, to show power which the Brit was idly lacking. Alfred on the other hand's moves were swift and practiced as his slightly calloused from years of manual labour gently lifted up the smaller man so he was pressed firmly against Alfred's chest, hands clasped tight on Arthur's slender round arse.

Arthur moaned at the touch before Alfred tossed him on the bed rather aggressively. The Brit landed with a loud plonk followed by a annoyed gasp in surprise as he was only centimetres from hitting the wooden headboard, before settling into the plethora of pillows behind him. Arthur knew were this was going but he continued to accept it he was tired of hiding his vulnerability.

Alfred meanwhile began crawling up the bed, one arm after the other as a shiver was sent up Arthur's spine. Alfred looked at his Alfred. _His when was Alfred his?_ He looked like Alfred but something about him had changed. Sure he still had his drop dead gorgeous looks but something about his movements and his facial expression caught Arthur off guard. It scared him slightly but he found no strength in his limbs to run and flea.

Alfred's face was filled with a ferocious hunger that seemed inhuman. As if Alfred were a predator and Arthur were his prey and his alone. The feeling of possession came to Arthur as Alfred made his way up to him and straddled him against his waist. Locking him in place as if he were to squirm and struggle against it, but to Alfred's surprise Arthur stilled.

"May I have the pleasure off taking off your clothes? My dear limey?" Alfred questioned playfully to the Brit who was quite shocked with the change of personality as if he could switch back and forth from gentleman to animal in a split second. But the playful limey ticked him off a little bit so he pulled the American down from his stratal, foreheads touching and the American's back arching at the adjustment.

Looking into those blue eyes as Alfred stared back at the green, Arthur cleared his throat to grasp his attention that he was going to speak, something extremely important but direly alluring. "Only if I take off yours, my sweet idiotic yank." Arthur was ready. He was tired of hiding in the shadows, he was ready and waiting for this and he couldn't be happier. But Arthur really couldn't deny he was at the least bit concerned. After all it was his first and speaking that it was with a man and not a woman.

"A-Alfred."

"Yes, my English rose?

"I-I have nev—" Arthur stuttered before he was silenced by Alfred's finger pressing softly across his lips.

"It's ok, I'll teach you and I promise I'll be gentle." With those comforting words of reassurance Arthur ceased his tension and relaxed his tendons only seeing it would be worse if he didn't. Arthur could only nod lazily before Alfred's hands slid up his torso, hands rubbing against the thin fabric of the shirt.

Alfred's hands finally met the top button of his shirt. He pulled of the black bow tie resting in the collar of the shirt as it gave a quick _swish _against the fabric before falling to the floor. Following the tie came the shirt, as Alfred practically ripped it off, buttons flying around the room. Alfred got the perfect view of the milky alabaster skin of the Brit. He leaned in closer allowing his slick wet tongue to slide up the lean torso of the Brit who mewled from the sensation, slightly purring as it reached his collarbone.

As Arthur sat there shirtless the cool temperature of the room kicked in, he gave a shiver as the cool wet feeling upon his chest almost became a painful sting, taking this as his opportunity to appeal to Alfred's highly erotic libido. Arthur timidly lifted up his hands to the neckline of Alfred's black and white stripped blazer slowly sliding it down his arms only to fall in the heap of clothes, adding another to the collection of the floor.

Alfred extended his neck, allowing Arthur to take a bold and seemingly reckless move, moving in for the tie he unfurled it with a quicker pace than the blazer. Once it sat loosely around his collar, Arthur moved in, lips pursed as he bit down onto the tie, pulling it off with impatient force. Immediately after he removed the tie, his shyness built up once again as he prudently unbuttoned each button as if Alfred were to abruptly pounce on Arthur and savagely maul him, ripping him limb from limb until he was nothing but a bloody pulp.

But as expected Alfred didn't live up to Arthur's deranged imagination. Alfred's open shirt crumbled beneath him, clearly displaying the American's toned flat chest, with a honey glow tan to it. Animal instincts that Arthur didn't believe he even possessed took over him as roughly slid the shirt off Alfred.

The now flamboyant Brit launched himself onto Alfred's chest. Unable to wait any longer as he eagerly awaited for those petulant pants to come flying off the American's body revealing more flesh that would have Arthur turning a crimson red.

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur securing him in a dead lock as he allowed his lips to travel up his body. Find Arthurs neck he gently bit down, receiving a moan from Arthur as his skin was nipped. Sucking as he bit, Arthur moved his hands were resting against either side of Alfred's shoulder blades.

Alfred moved his mouth away from the now red and blotchy patch off skin that were to surely bruise in the morning and lingered up to Arthur's mouth. His breathing steady as his breath danced across Arthur's skin. His hands sliding down Arthur's body down to his waist, he moved in allowing Arthur's and his lips to touch, gliding over each other while Alfred's hands lingered down from his grasp to Arthur's buckle on his pants.

Arthur motioned for him to undo his buckle which Alfred greedily complied with undoing the clasp as he slid down the Brit's slim pants. To his utter shock upon his pasty white skin were the remains of scars, all blotchy shades of red to pink with large scratches to accommodate them. He blinked several times to see if this was his vivid imagination, to his surprise it wasn't. He gasped audibly in realisation and looked up to Arthur whose face only was only lugubrious.

Alfred's grip on Arthur's waist only grew tighter; it wasn't as pleasant as before it was more threatening and concerning. Looking into Arthur's eyes Alfred could only see painful memories imprinted in his iris, replaying in his eyes as if it were a fucking movie, continuing the horrors of his past, reeling it as it was a Hollywood block buster.

"I suppose I should tell you then." Arthur could clearly see Alfred was curiously concerned. Alfred just gave a wry nod as he looked down at Arthur's legs. Arthur placed his thumb underneath Alfred's chin and slowly lifted him up so he was no longer facing his legs, instead Arthur's emerald green eyes that shone letting him know it was ok, along with a comforting and relieving smile.

"I guess you would have heard about the Titanic and the iceberg?" Alfred's eyes immediately shot up with dismay as he moved his hand to lace against Arthur's that was clamped against the bed sheets, creasing and knuckles white. "Well when I was 12, me and my family came on that bloody boat, that was told not even god could sink it. Tossers the lot. But anyway like optimistic parents would be they wanted the best for me and my 5 brother's, so they saved up all they could and bought a ticket to travel to New York. It was fine, the food was average speaking for 3rd class, the people were overly friendly and I ignored them half the time, simply reading Shakespeare throughout the entire journey. But then came the night the ship sunk…" Arthur trailed off as tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, Alfred could only hold him closer, giving him reassurance through a disappointed scowl, he really wanted to fuck Arthur right then and there on the sheets, but he could wait.

Arthur gave a hefty shallow sigh before continuing, wiping the tears from his eyes with the bare forearm. "I was up late at night, the usual for me when I saw it. It was the largest thing I had ever seen, the iceberg. It was dark and menacing all the same, looming over death. It scraped the side of the ship with a piercing screech and I cowered, covering my ears in defence. When I looked up I could only see a scratch in the side of the ship. I was scared for my dear life so I ran. I ran down flights of endless stairs as fast as my legs could take me to my parent's room. I told them what had happened and then soon after people started to panic. I remember my mum's exact words "Get your coat dearie and stay with your brother Peter." I did as my mum said and grabbed my little brother and headed for the stairs, my hand gripping against Peter. I had never seen Peter look so scared, fear was something the boy never showed—"

Arthur suddenly stopped, his clutched fist only growing tighter. "It's ok Artie, you don't have to continue." Alfred soothed his hand resting on top of Arthur's fist as it braced itself into the mattress.

"N-No, I…I want to continue." Arthur stuttered out before Alfred gave him a gentle nod to the head to continue. "Our bedroom was near the 3rd class kitchen. Peter and I both smelled smoke as our noses perked up to the smell. Peter snatched his arm away from my grip and ran to the source with me following close behind. The kitchen was completely ablaze, with people running in screaming in different directions. Peter being the- the stupid naïve boy ran into help. At first it wasn't that bad we got water from the sink and poured it out onto the fire. But that stupid, stupid boy stumbled back onto a can of oil, knocking it over into the fire currently behind him."

Arthur by the end of this was choking out the words. "It had landed not only on the floor but on his shoe was well. At that small amount he caught fire. There was nothing I could do. I tried to help him only to get burned myself. Our cries of pain blended in with each other. Until his screams ceased and I could only see his whimpering burnt body, as he mumbled over again and again "It hurts big brother. I would have done anything in my power to switch positions, I should have died not peter. He was too young and too innocent, if anyone it should have been me."

"As the thought that I was going to die to, limp and lifeless unable to move as the fire drew closer to my legs; I simply closed my eyes and waited for death to take me. To my surprise and utter happiness, it never came as my and my brother's screams weren't futile someone finally came and to my relief it was my oldest brother, William saved me. After that I blanked out. The next thing I knew was I was lying in the arms of my mum as she was on looking at the sinking ship and endless screams and cries for help. We never did get Peter's body out." Arthur's voice became hoarse by the end as he looked back into the eyes of Alfred that sometimes reminded him of the terrorless waves of the Atlantic.

Alfred's eyes drifted back to Arthur as he looked at the same photograph sitting on the desk. It all came together

"Arthur I'm so sor—"

"Alfred I don't want your apologies what's done is done, I can't change it no matter how much I try to." Arthur was plain sick and tired off the endless amounts of pity that was given to him. It provoked him in an unimaginable way, partially the reason why he always wore long trousers and never really talked about that day, but he honestly couldn't leave Alfred in the dark about something so important. Clearing his throat, immediately grabbing Alfred's attention with was un-doubtfully short, and stared (more like glared) at the American. He wasn't about to quit on what he aimed to do this evening…

"Now Alfred F Jones I believe that you had other plans." Arthur said gesturing to the pair of briefs, the only garment Arthur had that separated him from naked and clothed.

Alfred smirked at the sudden change of attitude from the Brit. His libido was really showing now. Allowing Arthur unzip the zip on Alfred's black dress pants that were more or less dry now, sliding them down to his ankles, allowing Alfred to kick off his pants rather roughly down his ankles and onto the pile already on the floor.

Blue and green eyes crossed over one another as each pair of eyes travelled up each other's bodies. Alfred licking his lips in a primate state as he pull Arthur abruptly and harshly so his body was pressed firmly and tightly against his chest. Moving in for the kill his lips brushed against Arthur's, sucking in an open mouth kiss as Alfred's hands played with the elastic of Arthur's boxers before shoving them off Arthur's body, leaving him standing there in the cold damp air of the room, the small moonlight from the window shining in against his milky white skin, almost giving off the feel that he was glowing.

Arthur's cheeks reddened in between the kiss before he allowed his own hands to fiddle with Alfred's white briefs. Dear god how he found them attractive, as if it were a sick fetish swelling up around the Brit's wants and desires. He pulled them down with a hungry force as he wanted Alfred to share the cool tingling feeling throughout his entire body as well. Alfred's briefs slid down his muscly toned calves and down to his ankles, shoving them off his feet he lunged himself forward to Arthur with a strange sense of déjà vu and continued what they had aimed to do. Not caring if in a sense it was a repeat of history they just wanted each other right then and there.

**Warning yaoi scene**

Holding Arthur down on the bed with a tight and constricting hold against his wrists causing them to go red at the touch, Alfred immediately wanted dominance, which the Brit wasn't entirely pleased with he showed no struggle. Allowing Alfred's calloused hands to gently glide across his thighs as his legs were caught in the middle of Alfred's who was currently straddling him into a tight locking position.

Holding Arthur in between his legs he allowed his mouth to course its way up Arthur's chest. One wet kiss after the other with freshly made red marks leading up Arthur's chest, claiming him as Alfred's very on personal pet, in a somewhat sickening sense. Alfred's mouth finally met those of Arthur's, creating a tender motion of open mouthed kisses as he forcefully grinded his naked body against Arthur's. The feeling was nothing short of blissful for Arthur and he wanted nothing more than Alfred, truth be told he was scared, though he would never admit it, but he trusted Alfred, he knew he could.

Alfred parted his mouth from Arthur in order to breathe before he loosened a grip on one hand of his tight strenuous hold on Arthur. Lifting his right hand to Arthur's mouth he commanded "Suck." Which Arthur willingly complied to allowing each digit to fill his mouth before he generously coated them in his salvia, as his mouth was on the brink of over filling. Alfred pulled out his heavily coated fingers receiving a small satisfied moan of approval from Arthur to continue further. Before he did so Alfred moved his head to Arthur's ear nipping at the surface before he playfully whispered in Arthur's ear, breath trickling against his skin "I promise I'll be gentle." Somehow he knew of Arthur's fear without even having to tell him, he was thankful that Alfred could sense the slight amount of reluctance in the Brit's actions, put with those small reassuring words he felt that he was ready. With a small nod of the head of approval, Alfred's hands made his way down Arthur's body, gently cupping his arse and slightly propping him up into a comfortable position for both him and Arthur.

Arthur took a shaky inhale before Alfred inserted the first digit. In response Arthur's body bolted up at the tightness. It was uncomfortable but manageable as he clutched the bed sheets beside him for support. The finger twisted inside Arthur's entrance, gentle and soothing circular motions as he mewled into the tender touch. Alfred's baby blue's continued to inspect him as the slightest jolt in either pleasure or discomfort would send those eyes drilling in on him, in order to make sure he was ok and not in any pain. Of course it was meant to be painful that was to be expected but he wanted it to be memorable.

"Can I put the next one in?" Alfred asked politely as he stared to Arthur, Arthur's eyes refocused on Alfred before he gave a shake of the head. Alfred didn't pull out put looked down to him with sadness. Before he could even think Arthur pulled him in closer, allowing the finger to push deeper in his entrance, gliding against the walls.

"Don't pat-patronise me you twat, just fuck me Alfred F Jones. Make me scream your name." Arthur shot back at Alfred in-between groans and with that a second finger was pushed in, the ring of muscles engulfing the fingers as he dug in further into Arthur's entrance. It was more uncomfortable than the first finger but he didn't want to stop the warm feeling of pleasure that was invoking him for more.

Feeling uncomfortable and plainly just too quiet Arthur took this as his moment to unwrap himself from his own personal shell "Move." Arthur commanded quietly, to gain some dominance, which Alfred complied to, scissoring motions began caressing the inner walls of his entrance. Sweat began to trickle its way down Alfred's forehead at each thrust forward, Arthur's hands moved away from the crumpled bed sheets below to wipe away the droplets of sweat on the perfectly sculpted sun kissed face of the American, smiling in-between groans as he did so.

Just as Arthur's loud and breathless pants mixed in with groans died down, Alfred moved his last digit in. This was the greatest tightness Arthur had felt so far, he let out a hungry moan as Alfred's fingers continued the scissoring motion. Suddenly to Arthur's surprise and utmost gratitude, Alfred's fingers hit his prostate, in reflex Arthur arched his body backwards and let out a loud and shaky moan in delight, eyes hazily flickering back to Alfred urging him to touch the so called 'magical spot'. Alfred swiftly launched his fingers back to that spot, again with the same shuddering action.

Alfred pulled his fingers out of Arthur, as Arthur began to feel empty and hollow. A bitter emptiness he had never felt before as he sat there stretched and violated. He looked down between his and Alfred's stomachs as he could see a small amount of sticky white precum, glistening against the small amount of moonlight seeping in from the window, melting in with the dimmed street lights. He felt utter pleasure only just to fingered and now he was ready for the main encore, as this was only his warm up.

Using the dripping precum off Alfred's throbbing erection, he lathered it up and down the shaft in an almost familiar movement of masturbation. Once his cock was somewhat coated with the precum of both Alfred and Arthur as it fused together. Gripping his own cock with a gentle clutch he allowed it to slide upwards along the hole of Arthur's entry before finally penetrating into Arthur.

Both their moans chimed together in perfect harmony as his cock slid into Arthur. _God he was tight_. Even with the large amount of stretching he had received, Alfred found it excruciatingly strenuous to weave his way into Arthurs prostate. Though he blamed it on it being Arthur's first time and he honestly couldn't blame the Brit to be at least somewhat fearful and as well is the inexperience adding up on top of that. Alfred couldn't be happier or at least honoured to be Arthur's. It is supposed to be monumental after all.

Alfred couldn't take the pressure anymore he had to say something, but something gentle compared to Arthur's demanding commands, "Artie- move pl-please." Arthur looked up to Alfred, eyes half lidded as he did so before he stretched out his legs further, until it grew painful. Alfred gave a gentle smile before he pushed further as the ring of muscles relaxed and stretched just that bit further to allow Alfred a somewhat easier passage.

He hit the back of Arthur's prostate receiving another gasping moan as he once again triggered the magic spot, in his eyes Arthur's weak spot and vulnerability. Pulling back he scissored his way into Arthur's entrance. Each thrust grew in speed and velocity, each time trying a new angle receiving a variety of reactions from both counterparts. While Arthur's mainly consisted of somewhat raspy and shallow moans and groans, seemingly feminine, Alfred's were more of a masculine groan with the occasional _fuck Artie you're tight_. Which Arthur would only growl at in-between his laboured pants.

Finally Arthur had reached his climax, splurging his white and sticky seed all over their stomachs, their movements were more or less slicker as their bodies grinded against each other in a rhythmic beats. Shortly after Alfred came, cum seeping its way down from his cockhead all the way down throughout Arthur's entire anus.

"ALFRED!" Arthur screamed out as the seed imploded down throughout his body, in a heavenly thick coating. It was a sticky and uncomfortable feeling that squelched as he felt Alfred's cock squirm around Arthur's anus which the dazed Brit who looked nothing short of tired at the movements. Pulling himself out and setting himself next to Arthur, Arthur's hands wrapped around Alfred's waist that was covered in Arthur's seaman, hands sliding across the toned muscle and wrapping around his sides.

Alfred placed Arthur's head affectionately underneath his chin so his body was somewhat laying on him as they laid in the bed, motionless and strangely comfortably sticky, lacing his hands through Arthur's hair that now had its ends partially covered in Arthur's seed. At each stroke he cooed the Brit whose breathes slowed down in tempo, only to look down to the once sexually active Brit was now asleep but still cutely (in Alfred's mind) holding an erection. Smiling at that he closed his eyes and embraced the warm feeling that Arthur put off.

The next morning Arthur found peace to have woken up first to see he was still in the comforting arms of Alfred. Lying on top of his bed protector he sighed as he looked around the room, how on earth am I going to wake up the oaf? He wondered as he inspected the American's body to see if he was any close to waking up. Thankfully without any help from Arthur he began to lightly kick the sheets at the bottom of the bed that somehow during their how to say ill-experienced sex had rolled their way to the edge.

One sleepy blue eye after the other opened up to see those of green, smiling at the first sight of the morning was Arthur's bed tossed hair and untamed eyebrows that seemed even bushier in the morning. "Mornin'." He said through a yawn earning a smack of the hand from Arthur who loosened himself from Alfred's grip and propped himself up so he was sitting looking somewhat threatening.

"You will cover your mouth when you yawn, I do not want to see whatever you ate the previous night." Arthur huffed as he grabbed a pillow from behind him, squeezing it roughly which Alfred thought he looked oh so adorable more than menacing.

"Aw babe, you know the only thing I ate was my and your seed." Alfred joked playfully as the cheeks of Arthur grew a beat shade of red.

"GO HAVE A SHOWER!" Arthur shouted tossing a pillow at his face, narrowly missing thanks to Arthurs crap aim and accuracy.

* * *

A shower and a pillow beating later Alfred found himself at yet another meeting. This one wasn't as relaxed and calm, new laws had been regulated as not a single person at the large table of the Vargas family dining room was looking the least bit pleased, all aside from Ivan who would look happy at the massacre of a thousand children, not looking the least bit saddened.

Even the room seemed saddened by his death. The chandelier light had been dimmed down and the black and white marble flooring had lost its shine. The dining room seemed emptier with less joy and less happiness. The creamy beige of the walls seemed lacking in colour even the endless rows of stone statues lining the back wall seemed saddened, each one on their individual face showed the same emotion.

Alfred sat next to Feli and Gilbert both with different interpretations of sadness imprinted on their faces. Feli's was the absolute worst, his hand was tightly holding Lovino who looked more annoyed than Saddened as he sat at the end of the table. Olga sat across from Feli a wry smile on her face trying to comfort Feli as she twiddled with the loose silver-blonde lock from her messy French braid bun. Gilbert sat beside Alfred, eyes not looking once to glance over at the American. The usual perverted smile washed off his face, showing a deeper layer of the easy going Prussian.

Ludwig sat next to Gilbert with the same stern stance to him, his back straight and his face not showing any remorse as per usual, but the still faced German seemed at least somewhat heartbroken and he looked up each time as Feli began to cry uselessly unable to do anything on Lovino's shoulder.

On one side of the table sat Yao's family inline from Yao and Mei whose hand was tucked in-between her lap rumpling under her prink and golden cuffed dress that suited her to a t. Kiku and Lien sat next to each other sharing glances at one another from time to time, mainly looking at their shoes as if anywhere else was a discussion best not to be made. Francis was leaning heavily against Angelique, looking as if he was crying with the handkerchief cupped in his hands. Angelique looked at the wood work of the table in sullen silence. Yao's children were missing from the table due to some tutoring classes. Alfred couldn't understand the Chinese and their obsession with succession in education even if it were an important event such as this.

On the other sat Ivan's family Ivan sitting next to Olga violet eyes drilling into his youngest daughter as she stared across the table compassionately to Feli. Natalia eyed her husband practically hanging off his forearm her deep blue eyes pressed firmly to his face a evil grin hidden behind her husband's red scarf that she wore (really stole). Sasha and Anastaysia sat next to their mother hands rubbing against each other their vision tucked in their laps. The three henchmen sat in line with each other all carrying the same tittering looks, Tino didn't look at all too pleased either his eyes fidgeting around the room nervously as he twiddled with the pocket knife in hand that was slyly hidden in his lap away from post people's view. A spare chair sat next to Tino only to increase Alfred's curiosity of who the newest member of the Braginski family was.

The eerie silence had gotten to Alfred sending him on the edge of the seat, eagerly waiting for someone anyone to start a conversation to break away from the dead silence of the room. But the silence gave him something about, aside from Arthur even though the Brit was on his mind most of the time unable to get out of his head, no this time wasn't about Arthur it was about Lovi.

The rule goes at the passing of the don boss the next oldest relative takes over and seeing as Lovino and Feliciano's father and mother had both died it was now left for Lovino. Alfred wasn't sure if Lovino saw it as a heavy burden to carry, weighing up each and every day reminding him of the scars and turmoil his family had created or a new beginning to build anew from the foundations once again, abolishing the previous reputation it had regardless of its good and bad deeds. As for the other families being there it was mainly because business had to be sorted.

Ivan cleared his throat abruptly against the silence of the room as all eyes turned back to him. "Comrades, we are here to discuss the notations of the peace declaration. Unfortunately the peace treaty was only valid for the previous head of the Varga's family, here we have an issue." No eyes met those of Ivan's only Yao's and Lovino's seeing as it mainly involved them. Alfred felt his stomach churn in his seat. He felt absolutely sick and vile.

"The declaration ended at the death of my grandpa and one of you bastards did it!" Lovino roared through the room, a few eyes darted up before they quickly slumped back down into silence.

"Lovino calm down, please be civil about this. I can understand the responsibility on taking the posi—" Yao tried to intervene. Truly he did understand. Being don boss is not the most pleasant of jobs nor is it the easiest. Unlike most European mafia's the Wang mafia family chooses their brightest offspring, unluckily or luckily enough it was Yao.

"No you don't you have no fucking idea what we had to go through, while your families have been living off the luxuries for fucking years we have had to start building ours!" Lovino shot back he was so sick and tired off people never understand what he had to go through. The years of torment from his grandfather weighed him down heavily.

"Lovino, we may not understand the hardships of building up your family but we do understand how to manage a family."

"Da, I agree with Yao. But Lovino you must understand this, the declaration is off that is the end of it. Your grandfather died along with the declaration. It does not apply to a new mob boss"

"No its not, I know one of you two shot him. I know your to blame. I know one of you sick fucking sadistic bastards killed my grandfather!"

"We did no such thing commie. We simply want there to be an end to this madness. The peace declaration is finished. Accept it."

"No I will not accept it. I will build my family in my grandfather's legacy. I will not deal with drugs and the murder of people, doesn't matter if they are innocent or not. And I will kill the person who killed my grandpa!"

"Lovino, please do not be rash."

"Lovino, how can you manage? You must understand the basic rule that we must come to terms with the things we would rather stay away from. Dealing with drugs and killing people is not something we wish to do but we do it for the family in order for their wellbeing. Lovino family is something precious to all, but in a mafia it is most."

"Don't you think I know this already?! I would find another way to—"

"Lovino. You must understand. Da? You can't just—"

Small footsteps sounded through the hallway next to the formal dining room. As the loud and booming argument silenced and small peeps of murmurs filled the room. All faces were filled with a sickening amount of curiosity, all except Ivan whose smug look on his face never seemed phased. "Ah he finally decided to show up." Ivan mumbled low under his breath only just loud enough for Natalia to hear who responded with a sly smirk.

What did they know that Alfred didn't? Or did everyone else know too and Alfred was the only one left in the dark? No this couldn't be the situation; Alfred inspected the looks on each person in the room. Everyone shared the same innocent face that could hardly be deciphered into meaning but the looks sent from all the Braginski's except Anastaysia and Olga were all smiling with evil delight. Even Tino who was cheerfully flicking the pocket knife back and forth. They knew something and they sure as hell weren't hiding.

The butlers who were standing at either side of the large wooden door briskly scurried their way to opening of the doors turning the golden handle inwards to pull the door open. A figure stepped its way over toward the table through the looming darkness of the hallway. The butlers closed the door behind him and moved to the position side the door, still and unmoving.

The figure continued its way over to the table, head hidden behind a black fedora but scrapes of hair could be seen. Ivan urged for Tino to pull out the chair from the spot beside him which he did without a second thought putting the knife back in his pocket before he did so.

From Alfred's point of view he couldn't see much. Only a man in a tuxedo with a red tie and a fedora. The man wasn't really tall only a little bit taller than Arthur. But he couldn't help to wonder what was he doing here and what did the Braginski family know that no one else did. As the footsteps drew closer the mysterious man made his way next to Tino. Tino looked up at the man smiling as he did so. The mysterious man's fingers curled at the touch of the chair.

The man finally pulled off his fedora to relieve Alfred's quenching curiosity only for it to break down in a rush of angst and dread as Alfred's eyes widened in surprise. _ No. It can't be. Why? Why?! If it could be anyone why did it have to be him?_

"I'm very sorry to be late. My plane only just got in. So tell me what's going on, eh?"

* * *

**A/N Hey guys so I have shame now because I wrote a sex scene, I'll just hide in the corner...alone**

**But anyways who is this mysterious man? I gave you a hint see if you can be a sluethy sleuth and work it out!**

**Ta ta all for now **

**Lk :3**

**Just some notes**

**William is Scotland  
**

**Olga is Siberia**

**Anastyasia is Crimea **

**Sasha is Moscow because he is very important to Russia!**


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